The Key
by Leoblonde
Summary: A hit off of Twilight, but the story follows the girl who has no clue who she is, and is thrown into a house of beautiful people vampires.
1. Chapter 1

She ran through the woods, trying to push branches and cobwebs and bugs out of her way while she ran, but it did her no good.  
Twigs and leaves crunched and snapped under her feet, threatening to trip her. Trees whipped her face, stinging every part of her body.

_How can this happen to me_ she thought frantically, running, running.

There was something after her, that much she was sure of.

But what, she had no idea.

It had woken her in the middle of the night. Well, more like beginning of the morning.  
It was around 2:15 when her window started to rattle violently, tearing her away from her nightmare.

She's looked up at the window and noticed it's shaking.

Interested, she pushed aside her covers and looked at the moving window.  
It couldn't just be wind. It had to be something more. Maybe the trees were growing too long, and were shaking it somehow.

She walked over to the window, and suddenly, the rattling ceased. Curious, she looked out the window, peering beyond the glass, covering her eyes with one hand.

She saw nothing that suggested abnormal movement. That was until her eyes flickered, and rested on two eyes, burning into the night, only with a hole in the middle for the iris, and the silhouette of a body, latched onto the side of the house.

"Oh my…." Was all she said before she bolted. She ran to her door, and wrenched the door open, only pausing to look behind her.  
The creature at her window was in full view now, trying to get in through the window. It looked up at her, noticing that she paused, and it smiled, revealing white teeth that creeped her out even more.

She ran out of her bedroom and nearly made a pit stop at her mother's bedroom.  
Deciding against it, she sprinted straight past the room, and headed for the stairs.

There, she slipped a hand shaped in a circle over the railing and raced down the stairs, praying that she wouldn't slip. Her feet flew off the slippery carpet against her socks, and nearly three times, the stairs threatened to fail her, but she wound up on the floor level safely, and out of breath.

The girl dared to look behind her, and there she saw the shadow, looming in the stairwell.  
All she could hear was the adrenaline pumping through her body, something she hadn't felt in a long time.  
The figure seemed to stop for a moment, and she heard something faint over the whooshing of the blood in her ears.

Whatever it was, she decided, it was not friendly.  
Like a frightened lamb, she darted again, somehow snatching the shoes and the jacket that were sitting on the ancient family chest, where she'd left them that night, after coming home from the party.

Then, she came to the door, and panicked. It was dark, and she couldn't find the lock.

Hastily, and fumbled for the padlock, the swing-lock and the door lock, opening them all in an amazing three seconds, and flung the door open.

She reached her hand around and locked the door, leaving it open for the person to slam closed.

She had a strategy.

The intruder would chase after her, and lock the door; alerting her mother to the danger [if she even woke up] and it would also make the intruder go back through the window if it decided to return for her mother.

As soon as the girl got halfway down her street, her door slammed behind her, and she put on the speed, thankful for the track coaching she'd been receiving.

She sprinted for two blocks straight, and decided that a straight path would only lead to the intruder getting her.

_Or its friends,_ her subconscious said to her, and she took an abrupt left, swinging into the margin between two houses, then shot to her right, speeding between two sides of the streets' backyards. Dogs barked as she went by, but she paid no heed to them, until she realized they might alert her pursuer to her location, and the girl revolutionized her entire route, taking a slant to the next neighborhood, and running down the alleyway.

The girl searched for a place to hide, naturally slowing her pace.

There were bushes, but those were too conspicuous. They would be searching for her there. And in backyards, and on porches.

She didn't realize how much she's slowed down until there was the sound of someone crashing through the bushes, and she turned slightly over her shoulder, seeing the black-clad creature coming toward her at an unbelievable speed.

Inspired by a new wave of fear, she bolted toward the tree-line, wishing she would go a little faster.

She broke through the first film of trees, and immediately tripped. Mud sprayed her face and clothes, and she realized she was still shoeless, and she's sunk into mud.

She grabbed hold of a tree in front of her to grip as she pulled herself, not daring to look back again for fear the thing would be standing directly behind her, breathing down her back, and she continued into the woods, clutching her shoes and jacket in her fingers as hard as she could, knowing her fingers and knuckles, knowing they were white from the pressure they were under.

She ran for another ten minutes, too afraid to stop or slow down.  
What was after her, and why was it continuing to chase her.

What had she done?

And why were its eyes glowing?

She stopped when she was sure the only sounds in the forest were that of hers, stepping on dry twigs that had fallen to the floor of the forest, and leaves being disturbed.

She slowly slowed down, and her lungs and heart slapped her in the face, reprimanding her for depriving them of oxygen for so long.

She leaned against a tree and focused on inhaling and exhaling to calm her heart rate.  
The back of her throat singed every time a new wave of cold air hit the gentle skin.  
She pulled her hands above her head, and welcomed the new dizziness, still listening for any sound that would alert her to the intruder.

She looked around, not recognizing anything.  
It wouldn't have helped even if she had football spotlights with her.  
She never wandered into the forest this far anyway. It was a death sentence, and everyone knew that.

With a sigh, she knelt down and stripped her socks off, which were covered in dirt, grime, sand, mud and unfortunate bugs. She carefully pushed her already laced shoes over her wet feet, careful not to get them muddy, trying to preserve the cleanliness for as long as she could. Then, she shoved her dirty socks in her jacket pocket, not knowing when or if she would need them again.

She tugged on her jacket, and stayed motionless for a while, listening for the shadow.  
It seemed to have left the woods. There was no distant crashing, or anything.  
With a sigh, she realized that going back the way she came would only provoke the intruder, and possibly prove threatening to her mother, so she continued on the way she had begun to run in.

At first, it wasn't difficult. The terrain had become solid because the dense treetops prevented much of the moisture from getting in, and the only thing slowing her down were the tree roots that jutted out in awkward places.

But once she got to what she felt was the other edge of the forest, she experienced muddy marshes and places where she sunk in four feet, literally to her waist, and ruined her attempt to keep clean shoes.

Muddy, wet and disheveled, she trudged on, not knowing where in the world she would end up, or where she could seek shelter, and possibly call home.

A sudden crack startled her, and her head whipped around so fast, it made the vertebrae in her neck pop and crack.  
Her eyes were wider than her skin allowed, and it caused them to get dry quickly, but the girl dared not to close them, even for the fraction of a second it took to blink.

Whatever it was, she felt that it was back.

Quickening her pace, she caught sight of a possible end, and made haste toward it, hoping that it was some sort of civilization.  
Adrenaline got her brain to hallucinating evil creatures and monsters chasing her, and she began to run, nearly tripping over everything in her way.

"Arrrghh!!" cried the thing, and the girl gave a yelp, fast-forwarding into survival mode, and she loped out of the forest, running as fast as her protesting thighs would carry her.

She sprinted up the first hill she got to, seeing a large brick house at the top, and whatever was chasing her crashed out of the forest. Her brain pushed harder, and her breath seemed to come in her nose and out her mouth simultaneously.

She finally got to the door, and frantically banged on it.

"HELP!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"PLEASE OPEN UP!!" she added, banging with her fist, bruising it.

"PLEASE!!!" she cried, looking around, wide-eyed for the creature.

All she saw was shadows, but her brain was convinced that it was still after her.

"FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS, PLEASE OPEN UP!!!!" she screamed, purely terrified.

She saw a quick flash of pink, and a lady with the most beautiful face she'd ever laid eyes on flung the door open.

"Child, what is your problem?!" she demanded.

It was not even a second that the girl was mesmerized by the face of the woman who looked in her early 30's before her mouth opened.

"Ma'am, I'm being chased. Please, let me in. I'm so dirty, and I'm so sorry, I'll pay for anything and everything, but please let me in." the girl pleaded, and the woman, who seemed to know her dilemma before she opened her mouth, stepped aside, yanked the girl in by the collar and shut the door, dead-bolting it before the girl was finished with her sentence.

The girl looked up at the woman.  
"Thank you so much!" she said in a gasp.  
The woman nodded, and the last thing the girl saw was the beautiful face staring indifferently at her before the girl passed out from oxygen debt.


	2. Chapter 2

When she woke up, she was still on the floor, sprawled out where the lady  
with the angel face had tossed her.

She looked up, and there was a man in a white coat, sitting in a

Victorian-style chair, playing with his hair.

She pushed herself up with an elbow, and the man, noticing her movement,  
stood and came toward her.  
"I see that you're awake," he told her as he walked over.  
The girl nodded, and touched her head.  
"I'd like to speak with you," the man added, crouching down to level,  
giving her a chance to look at his face.  
_What is with this house???_ She wondered, staring openly at the man.

He, too, was absolutely perfect, carved by angels themselves. His cheeks were  
strong, and slanted, like skin had merely been stretched across his face as  
tight as it would go, and his chin was rounded.  
His eyes were of a lovely green color, bright, vibrant, like no ones eyes she'd  
ever seen before. Not even contacts could appear to that color.

The girl stared at him. After a moment, she said.  
"Alright."

The man walked back across the room and pulled the large Victorian-style  
chair across the wooden floor to her side.  
"Are you alright?" he asked her.  
The girl shrugged. "I guess." she replied. "I'm  
sorta confused right now, actually." she informed.

The man nodded. "Why is that?" he asked her, very calm.

She looked into his face, captivated by his beauty.  
"I've no idea where I am." she stated.

-------

The guy looked at her, confused.  
"You don't remember how you got here?" he asked her clearly.  
The girl stood, brushing off her clothes. "I don't have any  
idea." she confirmed with a nod.

The man sat back in his chair. "  
Do you know the date?" he asked her.

The girl thought for a moment, her tongue appearing out of the side of her  
mouth.  
After a few seconds, she looked back at the man, appearing frustrated.  
"No," she admitted.  
"What about the year?"  
Again the girl shook her head.  
"Curious..." the man muttered.

"Yes, I am, actually." she replied, making the beautiful man laugh, a  
tinkling sound, like wind-chimes.  
"I'm sure. Child," he said, becoming suddenly serious.  
"What is your name?"

The girl looked at the floor.  
_This is something you should know..._ the voice in her head told her.  
The girl tried recalling something, anything that would bring her her name.  
She imagined little men in her brain, frantically flipping through files around  
her skull, looking for the appropriate data.  
She got nothing.

"I don't know..." she told the man.  
"I suspected as much," he told her, and lifted himself out of the  
chair.

"What do you remember?" he asked her.  
"I remember the lady throwing me in the house. And I was worried  
about the dirt...." the girl trailed off, and looked down.  
She was covered in grime. Dirt soiled the good half of the bottom of her  
jeans, she was sockless, and mud caked the floor where she's laid.  
There were leaves in her hair, along with more dirt and mud, half a butterfly  
on her shirt, where she'd obviously taken the life doing something.  
She could only imagine her face.

The man seemed to smile at her through beautiful, wrinkle-less cheeks.  
"Don't worry about that," he told her.

The girl grinned weakly; embarrassed she appeared as she did.  
"Ill be right back," the man informed her, stood and left abruptly.  
He was gone before she could nod shyly, and look up.

As soon as he left, the girl looked down.  
"Who am I?" she asked.  
It was a bad thing not to know one's own name. That, she knew.  
But why couldn't she recall it.

She touched her head, and found an astonishingly sore spot.  
Exploring tenderly with her fingers, she examined her body.  
Not only was she covered in dirt and guts of bugs she'd squished, she had  
multiple scrapes, scratches, gouges, and cuts, all of which had healed, and dry  
blood clung to her skin.  
She licked her shirt and wiped off the dried, deep red blood off her skin.

Then, the man came back, this time with clothes.  
He handed them to her, and the girl looked at him like he was Santa.  
"I've managed to find you some clothes that should fit. You can  
change and clean up. There's a towel in the bathroom, and you can  
shower." he informed her.

The girl stared at him. So gorgeous.  
"But..." she started to protest, when the man put a hand on her back  
and ushered her forward.

"We'll figure this all out later." he told her, and pushed her  
around the corner, where steam was emitting from a small door in the wall.  
"Go and clean up." he directed, pushed her into the bathroom and  
closed the door.

The girl let the warmth sink into her skin, and goose bumps erupted on her  
arms and legs. She set her new clothes on the toilet, the folded,  
emaculent-white towel on the sink, and shed her dirty clothes. She raked  
through her hair with her fingers, trying to loose it from all the leaves  
tangled in the strings, and wiped a space in the fog on the mirror.

She was absolutely horrendous. Dirt swiped her face, making her look  
like a combat victim. Her eyebrows were hidden in caked mud.  
Somehow, the girl couldn't get over the face that fear seemed to be etched in  
the markings on her face.

With a shrug, the girl locked the door, and eagerly stepped into the shower,  
savoring the warmth as the water poured over her weak body. The steam  
swirled around her in lovely warmth, and the girl stood under the stream of  
water, her body threatening to fail her again, and collapse in the tub.


	3. Chapter 3

She turned the water nozzle off, and pushed the curtain aside.  
The floor was covered in dirt, and she groaned.

Trying as hard as she could, she dried off, got dressed and wrapped her strawberry blond hair before water dripped onto the floor, turning the dirt to mud, and making an even bigger mess to clean up.

Due to the face she did all her after-shower stuff in the tub, there was little water that splashed onto the tile, and the girl quickly wiped up the mess with a was of paper towels, threw it away and picked up her dirty clothes.

She tossed her clothes into the dirty hamper, and opened the door, letting cool air hit her in the face. and walked down the hall.

The man with the Hollywood face was still in the main room, now with the woman in the pink robe, who was no longer in the pink robe.  
They both were looking at her.

She paused, not knowing if she was intruding on a private conversation.

"Come, child" Chimed the woman.

The girl obeyed, and carefully walked out of the hall into the room, coming to about two feet in front of the couple.

The man was in his Victorian-style chair, and the woman sat on top of the arm.

"I am Greyson Allen," said the guy, and motioned to the woman.  
"And this is my wife, Aimee." [Author's note: pronounced like Amy.]  
The girl lowered her head.  
"Thank you so much for letting me shower," she said quietly, daring to look into her pretty hazel eyes.

The woman nodded. "You're welcome." She replied. "And I understand."

The girl looked up. "Really?" she asked. "Because I don't."

Aimee just looked at her, then, "Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean," the girl said. "I have no idea. At all. About anything." Se shrugged.

Aimee looked at Greyson expectantly.  
"My guess," he said. "Is that she both fell and had a concussion or whatever scared her, scared her so much, her brain went through her mind and hid everything that would bring back her terror; including who she is."

Aimee's eyebrows lifted. "Hmmm," she answered, interested.

The girl stood at their feet, feeling she was interrupting something again, even though no one was speaking.

"Well…uhmm…" Aimee said, forgetting already she didn't have a proper name.

"It's almost six-thirty, and I'm sure you want to get some rest. Greyson and I will look further into things. But I'll show you where you can rest tonight." She added, standing up and heading for the stairs.

The girl followed Aimee up the Grand Staircase, and down the hall, past five closed doors and into a dimly lit room with a bed, a dresser and matching nightstand and a separate bathroom.

"Come downstairs when you're good and ready. I will have food waiting whenever you get up." Aimee told her, and left her in the room.

The girl was still extremely confused, but as soon as Aimee left, the girl was in bed, jeans and all, hitting the pillow fast asleep.

---

When she woke up, sunlight was streaming in through a small crack in the curtains.

She sat up and looked around.

The room was painted a soft blue, like a babe blue, and bordered with painted vines and small yellow and white daisies along the top boarder, making it warm and inviting.

There was a matching dresser to the nightstand and the head and foot boards of the bed. The dresser was made of a light oak with six drawers, three on each far left and right side, and a large cupboard in the middle of the two sides. Perched on top of the dresser was a long oval mirror.

The girl stared at her reflection.

The color, a light tint of natural paleness, had returned to her face, and the pink in her cheeks emitted a soft glow under her green-blue eyes. Her hair, a strawberry-reddish-blond was in a ponytail on the back of her head, and small odds and ends stuck out from her face like they were drawn by a magnet.

With a stretch, she fell back against the pillows, and concentrated.

It seemed that she remembered impersonal.

She understood the meaning of life, could tell you the letters of the alphabet and the animals of the world. She knew the difference between good and bad, right and wrong. She hadn't lost any memory of speech or communication, but the more personal details came to her in a void.

She couldn't remember her name, couldn't place where she belonged, didn't know where she lived, or how old she was. She couldn't picture her mother or father, or if she had any siblings or pets. She didn't remember any childhood, none of her elementary teachers, or her childhood friends.

She couldn't place her emotions either. Normally, a person should feel terrified, being in an unknown house, people who have, so far, housed, showered and let her sleep, and required no more an explanation than, 'I don't know'.

Yet, she wasn't scared.

She was captivated by their beauty, and how someone could be so perfect.

Frustrated, the girl got out of the bed and walked across the room, opening the door.  
She was immediately hit in the face with the aroma of herbs and spices, making her nose tickle. Her stomach grumbled in protest to the mouthwatering smell, reminding her how hungry she was.  
When was the last time she'd eaten??

She stepped out into the hallway and carefully headed down the hall.

All of the doors that had been closed earlier that morning were wide open, letting light flood into the hallway.

She stopped in the hallway and looked into the first room.

It was a girls' room, obviously.  
There was a light blue comforter, dressed with white trimmings, and the walls were slightly darker than the comforter, and had a thick white boarder.

On the walls were pictures of fairies. Some where alone, one was sitting on a crescent moon, and others were grouped together in various places.

Moving on, she looked to her right, and spotted a boy's room.

It was a dark green, lined with a white strip around the middle, and crown molding three inches thick.

There was a black futon couch, a television, and a rack of DVDs. The stereo sitting on a well-supported shelf was massive, with long speakers, and wires going from one side of the room to the other.

There was a carpet of sandy-brown, and a verde green rug beneath the couch.

The girl moved on to the next room and saw that it too was a boys room. It had a half of a bunk bed, and a TV. The bottom half of what would be the bunk of the bed was formed into a computer desk with a laptop, printer, and a half size file cabinet. There was a full boarder of CDs and a small radio system sat in the corner on a nightstand.

The other two doors were sliding doors to an upstairs on one side and a downstairs on the other.

Satisfying her curiosity, she continued down the hallway until she came to the Grand Staircase, coming into a conversation she had a feeling she wasn't supposed to hear.

:"She's coming now," Aimee's tinkling voice.  
"Clear out now, and come back in a half an hour. We'll start then."

_Start what??_

The girl heard the movement of possibly a little more than two people pushing chairs back and heading out a door that closed gently.

The girl headed down the stairs like she'd never paused, and entered in through the kitchen, coming up to Greyson and Aimee.

"Good morning!" Greyson said happily to her, jumping up and pulling out one of the chairs for her.

The girl thanked him, and sat down in one. The other chairs looked like they'd never been moved.

Then, Aimee walked out from behind a bar with low-hanging cupboards with a plate with a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich.

The girls' eyes lit up.

Then, she paused for a moment. She remembered something.  
She absolutely LOVED PB&J.

Aimee set the plate in front of her, and the girl's stomach grumbled again loudly.

Aimee smiled, and went back to the kitchen, returning with a glass of lemonade.

The girl smiled, swallowing a big bite she'd taken.

Aimee inclined her head.

The girl reached out for the glass, swallowed her mouthful, took a long swig of the lemonade and took another bite of her sandwich, setting the glass back.

_This house is enchanted._ She concluded.

_Beautiful people, beautiful house, beautifully delicious PB&J'…_

She slowed down to enjoy her food, and she realized that Greyson and Aimee weren't eating, but were watching her intensely.

She swallowed and returned their gazes, taking turns looking at the two.

Aimee was the first to speak.

"Continue," she urged and the girl obeyed, taking another bite of her sandwich happily.

_Who are these people?_ She thought.

_They welcome me with open arms, and I don't know who I am, nor do I know who they are.__ They obviously don't know me, or they would have told me my name and figure out where I belong._

She took the last bite and finished off the lemonade.

Aimee whisked the place and cup away as soon as she set it down, and returned.

"Thank you guys so much," the girl said to them, wishing there was a way she could express her gratitude.  
Greyson nodded, his luminescent green orbs bobbing under his chestnut hair.

"You're welcome," he told her.

The girl nodded slowly to herself. "But," she replied. "I don't understand why you're doing all this for me."

Greyson tilted his head. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I wake up in your house, and you obviously don't know my name, yet you let me wash and use your clothes and sleep in a bed you provide and you feed me," the girl listed.

Greyson nodded, and welcomed Aimee as she sat on the edge of the chair.

"Well," Aimee offered, looking from her husband to the girl without a name.

"We feel as though you're supposed to be here," she answered.

She looked at the girl and the girl stared back.

Aimee had sharp, angular features, yet at the same time, they were just perfectly not too sharp. In the middle of her face was a short rounded nose.

Her head was cropped by a short pixie-cut style, varying from red to blond to brown to almost black.

Hazel eyes glowed beneath chocolate eyebrows.

Her flawless face sported a small freckle, right smack-dab in between her left eye and the eyebrow above it.

The most beautiful beauty mark ever, as far as the girl was concerned.

"Yeah," the girl replied, mesmerized, wanting to do anything that Aimee might as her to do.

Then, Aimee looked away, breaking their connection and the urging feeling that the girl had.

"So we, Greyson and I that is, decided to offer you the invitation to stay here." She said to her.

The girl nodded. "Sure," she replied. What else would she say??

Aimee smiled and stood up.

"It's settled then," she determined.

"What is??" the girl asked, suddenly confused.

"You will meet the family," Aimee replied simply, and disappeared into the kitchen.

The girl looked at Greyson, who was smiling at her.  
After a couple moments, the girl heard footsteps coming back in from the kitchen.

Aimee walked from the doorway, followed by three more people.

"The family…'' The girl mumbled to herself. She had forgotten about the empty, emaculate rooms.

"Oh boy…" she added.

Three, of course they were because she were the offspring of Aimee and Greyson, beautiful people came into the room after Aimee.

The first one, a boy, made his presence known immediately, drawing attention by his sheer size.

_Someone works out._

He was nearly six inches taller than his father, and double in width. The amazing part was his width was nothing but muscle.

On his head was a frayed baseball hat that covered straight brown hair, hiding eyes that resembled his mothers.

He had a strong, square jaw and a slight cleft chin.

The girls' eyes slid down his body, and she paused on his chest. It almost jutted out, and the girl made out both pecs, and at least two pairs of muscles on his abs.

His arms, a strong pale copper color, rested on his sides.

The girl tried to imagine how he would scratch a spot on his back.

She giggled softly, imagining him sunning up to a corner in a hurry, and moving back and forth to make friction on his back because his muscles were so large, he couldn't reach around to his middle back.

The guy's head shot toward her, looking at her with perceptive eyes.

She immediately stifled the laugh.  
The next person to enter the room was a girl.

Somehow, she was even more beautiful than her mother.  
She had long, wavy, almost maroon hair that hung to her waist.

Her eyes matched the previous boys' and her mothers' and she had the same nose as her brother.

She was short and slender with long skinny pale fingers and skinny arms.

The beautiful one looked at the stranger girl with a hostile glare, not bothering to look away when her glance was recognized, and she made her guest cringe.

The last was a boy, taller than Greyson still, but shorter than his brother.

He had a mop of dark brown hair, but that all she saw, because he kept his head faced toward the floor.

The girl tried to smile, but she felt the beautiful girls' stare, and her courage failed her.

"These are our three children," Aimee announced, walking over to put a hand on the shoulder of the first boy.

"Maximilian." Aimee said.

The large boy put his hand out to greet her.  
"Nice to meet you," he said, as soon as his hand touched hers.

The girl smiled, glad for someone who she might be able to talk to, and she met his hand in the middle.

He squeezed her hand so hard though, she let out an involuntary screech, and tried to slide her hand out of his grip.  
"OUCH!" she shrieked.

Maximilian seemed genuinely sorry.  
"Oh, I'm so sorry," he said quickly, reaching out as though to comfort her, but he retracted his offer, thinking she would shy away from him.

The girl nodded, stroking her hand gingerly. "It's alright," she told him with a hesitant smile.

Then, she looked at the beautiful girl next to Maximilian. Her expression had changed slightly when her brother hurt her; her eyebrows furrowed even more.

"This is Antilania," Aimee said.  
"Pretty name," she told the beautiful one.

Antilania glared at her.

Aimee pushed on her daughter's back. "Don't be rude," she murmured in a scolding voice.

Antilania sighed, shoved out one hand to greet her guest, and crossed the other over her chest.  
"It's great to meet you….." she said, requesting a name.

The girl, hurt by her hostility didn't reach out to meet her grip, and tilted her head toward the floor.

With a sad sigh, Aimee went to her last son.

"And this is Blair." She finalized.

Blair, the boy with the mop of dark brown hair looked and the girl gasped slowly.  
His eyes were an astonishing iridescent blue.

She wondered if he was hiding from her because of his eyes.

"Hi," he breathed, putting his hand out to meet hers.

The girl stretched to reach his.

"Hello," she replied, trying not to sound over-=friendly.

Blair released her hand, and she shoved it into her pocket.

His hands were strangely cold. She hadn't really paid attention to Maximilian's grip, for fear he would break her fingers, and Antilania obviously had no intention of offering her a warm welcome.

Then, Aimee walked out to the living room, followed by her doting husband and their three ducklings.

_One, two (glare), three__._ They left in order.

_This is an interestingly peculiar family__,_ she thought.

_They hardly say anything, they're beautiful, their house is beautiful, but is seems as though no family time was ever spent here._

With a shrug, the girl followed the family.

The fourth and the ugly duckling.


	4. Chapter 4

The day was the most awkward she'd ever experienced in her life, which wasn't saying a whole lot, considering the girl didn't remember anything about her life, but the point was, it was awkward.

When she went to retire that night, she found a gorgeous small spiral lying against her pillows and a neatly quartz-inlaid pen.

Curiously, the girl opened the journal, and read the inside upper corner.

Just a small something to let you write your thoughts down in. It's probably really hard not remembering anything.

-A

"How thoughtful, Aimee," the girl said to herself.

Then, she sat on her bed, grabbed a pillow and opened the journal to the first page.

It was designed with long swirls and the silhouette of a flower in the middle.

With a sigh, she folded her legs, and began to write.

**I don't know where to begin, so I'll start where I remember:**

**I don't remember much, but I woke up on the floor of this absolutely beautiful home, and a man, Greyson, was there.**** He talked to me some, but I don't even know my name, or where I live or who my second grade teacher was, or if I even had one.**

**He, Greyson, made me shower, and when I got out, I met Aimee, Greyson's wife, and she led me to the room which seems to be mine now, I guess. **

**They have three Children: Maximilian, Antilania, and Blair.**

**The girl absolutely hates me, and Maximilian nearly broke my hand shaking it today.**

**Blair is the only one in the house with blue eyes, closest to Greyson who has green eyes.**** The other three have a liquid hazel color.**

**These people are so peculiar. They're unmistakably beautiful. Seriously, they're flawless. Antilania probably hates me because I'm the ugly intruder in her house.**

The girl paused when a knock at her door caught her attention.

Maximilian stood under the doorframe.

"Hi," she welcomed him in, shutting her journal.

Maximilian smiled. "Hi," he repeated.

"I just wanted to say sorry about your hand today, and to wish you good-night." He added. The girl felt her heart warm towards him.

"Thank-you," she said. "You too,"

Maximilian grinned at her. "I'll see you tomorrow," he told her, backing out of her door.

"Good-night Maximilian," she returned.

Maximilian winced. "Yeah, you can call me Max." he told her casually.

The girl giggled. "Of course. Night Max," she called.

Max smiled. "Good-night….uhmm…night," he returned, forgetting she had no proper name.

**This not-knowing-my-name thing is starting to get annoying**

**Things to remember:**

**.Call Maximilian, ****MAX**

**.Stay out of Antilania's way.**

**.I love PB&J**

Deciding to stop for the night, the girl flipped to the front page and wrote:

**To:**** Me**

**From: Aimee**

Then, she set her pen and journal on the dresser, and opened the drawers curiously.

Se found the shirt drawer

Opening drawers until she found a pajama drawer, she pulled on a par of cotton black sweats and slipped into a tank top.

Putting her dirty clothes in an elegant basket in the corner, and jumped between the covers.

In her dream, she was running. It was like a badly made film. It felt like she was on a treadmill, staying in one place, and the scenery was rolling past her like she was actually going somewhere.

Except she was going somewhere.

She took turns and tucked under branches and tripped over branches and roots.

Out of breath, she stopped for a minute to let her lungs collect air and bring it through her blood stream.  
A twig broke and the girl froze.

"There you are," something said in a coarse voice like sandpaper.

"The girl looked for the source of the voice, but it was a dead search.

"I've been looking for you," it told her.

She meant to stammer out, "why?" but the words tangled in her throat.

The creature came out from the blind shelter into a patch of moon-provided light.

It was huge, with nasty paws and saliva-dripping fangs and acid breath.

The girl looked at the thing in horror.

And she screamed…

---

And she screamed, thrashing about in her bed, kicking the blankets off, flinging pillows.

"Hey!! HEY!!" demanded a voice and a firm, cold arm suffocated her as it compressed across her belly.

Fingers closed around both of her wrists and punned them to the sides of her head, but still, she thrashed and screamed.

"WAKE-UP!!" the voice roared, and the girl woke up to Max staring down at her.

"Max…" the girl breathed her eyes wide.

She was breathing hard and she turned her head so she wouldn't be puffing into his face.

One of Max's eyebrows was lifted into a high arc.

"What was that?" he asked.

The girl looked around nervously. "Uhmm….I guess a nightmare." She admitted.

Then, Blair, Antilania, Greyson and Aimee joined their get-together.

They all peered down at her.

"Nightmare," she told them shyly.

Greyson nodded. "That's typical." He announced.

"They're associated with your conditions," he added

"Thanks," the girl replied.

Antilania left, probably upset she wasn't being mauled by a bear, and Aimee followed her shortly, obediently trailed by her husband until just Blair and Max were in the room with her.

"Sorry," she breathed.

Blair smiled, and the girl immediately loved it.

"It's no big head," he told her.

Max nodded in agreement.

The girl studied the two boys.

Blair was tall, lean and well-built, but no where close to his brother's size.

His shoulders and chest were less broad than Max's but his legs were longer, and more proportionately speaking, were more muscular.

His jaw was less prominent than Max's as well; more smooth and rounded and oval shaped. He had low cheek bones and a long nose that suited his long face perfectly.

But his blue eyes astounded the girl.

They glowed off his face, like signals.

Max's wee a liquid coppery-brown with flecks of rust and gold in them.

Both were gorgeous, as far as she was concerned, and next to them, the girl was about as interesting as a plywood board.

Max leaned over her, letting her arms go.

"You're going be alright, right?" he asked her, shooting a glare at Blair that clearly conveyed, _**CLEAR OUT**_.

Blair got the messed, huffed, and left the room.

"Yes," the girl replied.

"Should I stay here?" Max asked thoughtfully.

The girl shook her head.

Max paused.

"Can I stay here?" he asked again. "Just for a while."

The girl shrugged. "If you want to," she replied, wondering how she was going to get to sleep with huge body-builder sitting at the foot of her bed.

It wasn't long she wondering because soon, she was dozing off, Max sitting at the edge of her bed watching her intently.

---

"How do you expect me to keep that from her?" demanded an angry Max.

"You have to, Max. There's no other way around it." Replied Aimee in her soft, cool voice.

"How should I do that?" Max replied, clearly irate. "It's what I am. It's what I do!"

Then a third voice came into play.

"It would be in the best interest to continue this conversation at a later time," Blair, the third voice suggested.

Max and Aimee stopped talking.

When she opened her eyes, three absolutely gorgeous people were staring down at the girl.

"What was all the noise?" she asked.

Max smiled at her, a beautiful, tooth-displaying smile.

_Stupid pretty people._

"Uhmm…just a disagreement is all." He told her. He sounded as though he'd never been angry in his life.

"Sorry we woke you."

"Oh," replied the girl, mesmerized.  
"I'll let you know when the time comes," Max told her, and Aimee in the corner growled.

Literally, she growled.

The girl, unsure of what to think, looked away, and stared at Blair through the mirror.

_He could quite possibly be the most beautiful of them all,_

He seemed reserved, unlike the others, like he was hiding something, which they obviously were, but he was ashamed of their secret, unlike the others.

His bright blue eyes were dimmed today, and his eyebrows almost met in the middle, making his features vicious-looking.

The girl frowned and looked back at Max while Aimee and Blair filed out of the room.

"Sorry about them," Max said to her.

The girl studied his face.

"What was it they didn't want you to tell me?" she asked him carefully.

Max's eyes furrowed and he looked down at her.

"It's nothing," he replied irritably, and sat up on the foot of the bed.

"Is it something that you _can't_ tell me?" she asked him.

Max pursed his lips and moved his eyes to the left.

He was going to lie to her.

The girl remembered the old superstitious trick she'd picked up somewhere.

_If someone looked to the left, they were going to lie. _

_Left equals thinking about a lie, the right was remembering the truth._

Max took in a deep breath.

"Well…" he said.

"Don't lie to me," the girl told him bluntly.

Maybe she'd caught him off guard. Or she'd surprised him. Or maybe she'd annoyed him.

Because he just stared at her.

"I _can_ tell you, but Aimee doesn't want me to."

"And you don't want to tell me either?" the girl asked, satisfied with his answer.

Max shook his head.  
"No, actually, I want to." He told her. "But I need to respect Aimee." He added reluctantly, and pushed his right elbow with his other hand to itch a spot on his back.

"But," he added brightly.

"I suppose if you guessed, Aimee couldn't complain." He suggested.

The girl scoffed. "Well, if you can't give me hints, I think we'll be sitting here for a while."

Max grinned. "You have a sense of humor," he said, and reached out to touch her hair.

His fingers touched her cheek, and they sent shivers down her body, and suddenly, she was cold, even under her blankets.

"I like that," He looked at her softly. It amazed the girl how rough Max had been when they first met, almost breaking the largest bone in her hand in two, and now; he was stroking her face as gently as a swan's feather drawn along her skin.

_Was he speaking romantically to her??_

_No, he was just…admiring her??_

Max leaned closer to her, and his fingers opened right behind her ear, and rested into the crevice of her neck.

His eyes explored hers, looking from one eye to the other, and he leaned closer marginally.

The girl started to panic.

She could feel his breath warm on her face and neck.

He was awfully close to her, and somehow, he leaned even closer.

She got the complex that he wanted to kiss her.

But before she could open her mouth to say something, anything, to distract him, he said, "You need a name."

The tone in his voice convinced her he had no intentions of fulfilling any physical contact as he leaned toward her and she let out a sigh.

"Pick a name." he told her.

The girl snorted. "I can't just pick out a name for myself," she told him.

"I've got to be _assigned_ a name."

Max leaned back, putting a finger thoughtfully and nodded.

"Yes, you're right." He agreed. "How do we go about doing that?"

The girl shrugged. "I guess you and your family come up with a list of names and pick whichever I like more." She suggested.

Max shrugged and nodded.

"Sounds about right," he said, and stood up.

"Where are you going?" she inquired.

Max pulled aside her covers and unwelcomed, cold, stale air hid her unguarded legs and she almost gasped.  
"We're going to get you named." He said, lifting her out of the bed and set her gently on the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

Max led the girl out to the hall, where he stoof at the edge of the Grand Staircase and bellowed, "FAMILY MEETING!!"  
The girl jumped, not expecting him to stop and yell, and she yelped a little.

Max glanced back at her and gave her an amused smile before heading down the stairs.  
The girl followed behind him, and she heard a single door behind her open and footsteps followed her.

When they got downstairs, they went into the main living room, Max offered her the large Victorian chair, but she declined it.  
That was the first chair she'd seen Grayson in. It was his chair, as far as she was concerned, and she took to the couch instead.

Max stood beside her.

She wondered how this was going to go.  
She was going to be named.

How lucky was she?  
Granted, she would have preferred to know her original name, but…what kind of fun was that?

Blair appeared at the steps, and headed toward the spot on the couch beside her as Greyson and Aimee came from the kitchen.  
Greyson sat comfortably in his Victorian chair, Aimee sat delicately on the arm next to him.  
They waited silently, and the girl grew impatient.

All of them, every single one, was unnaturally still.  
Max was staring at the stairs, and Blair was watching something off in the corner.  
Greyson was studying the material of his chair and Aimee was looking at her husband's hand.  
Time seemed to stand still.  
Like someone had pressed a pause button on them all, and she was the only one who knew about it.

Suddenly, Max broke the silence, clearing his throat, and then everything came back to life, as though the play button had been pushed.

Squinting her eyes, she tried to let her mind get back to rational thoughts.  
Her attention was brought to the stairs again when Antilania appeared at the top.

Antilania glared at the girl, slowly trudging down the stairs, scuffing her feet until she brought herself to a coffee table, and she flopped down.

"Yes, Maximilian?" she asked calmly.  
Max ignored her.  
"I've brought you guys here for a proposition," he said, very business-like.  
The girl got the feeling that they had these family meetings quite often.  
"The idea is that, since we, as you all know, have a guest in the house, treat her as we would want to be treated. I would preferably like to be called by my name, but that's where the problem lies. Our guest does not know of her name, and she's consented to giving us the responsibility of naming her." He announced.

Greyson and Aimee studied him with gentle eyes, and Blair seemed to approve.  
Antilania inspected her nails.

"And so," Max added, finishing off his statement.  
"I propose that we collaborate and name our guest."

Grayson nodded. "That sounds fun," he announced.

Aimee nodded in agreement. "It does," she added, smiling at her husband.

Blair gave his input, a quick, "Sounds good to me," and Antilania shrugged her approval.

"Alright." He said.

the girl looked them. It would be awkward to listen to them talk about her. "I'll….just go..and sit in the kitchen," she announced.  
Aimee smiled at her. "There are peanut-butter and jelly materials on the counter," she told the girl.  
She looked at Aimee with loving eyes. "Awesome! Thanks!" she replied, and went into the kitchen, looking for her lunch.

---

Aimee looked at Grayson. "You think she knows?" she asked her beloved, who shook his head calmly, but they looked at Blair anyway.  
Blair shook his head. "She has no idea." He told them in his soft, melodic voice.

"We'll have to tell her sometime," Max announced knowingly.  
"I'll go introduce her to that side of us right now," Antilania offered.  
Max growled at her. "What's wrong with you anyway. You treat her like…she doesn't belong here."

Antilania glared at Max above her nails. "In case you haven't noticed, she doesn't." she snapped. "She's…not one of us." She added warily.

"All the same, we know _why_ she is here. It's just the matter that if your prophecies come true about her, we'll need to act apon them when the time comes."  
Antilania rolled her eyes. "Yeah," she replied. "Good luck with that." She added.

"What have you seen?" Blair asked, his voice intensely different than the rest. He was composed.  
Antilania gave Aimee a careful look, but she urged her to tell them.  
"She's going to cause a war between our kind. She's going to cause a mass development of newborns, and…it's going to be nasty." She replied, her tone depressed.  
"I see if everytime you're with her," she said, looking up to Blair.

"Then we'll keep her away from Blair," Grayson said.  
"Yeah," Max added. "I have no problem getting close to her."

Antilania shook her head. "It's not that simple," she said.  
Max shrugged. "Why not?" he asked, chuckling.

"Because she's not meant for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Max demanded.

Antilania gave him a sorrowful glance. "She's destined to be with someone else." She replied. Her tone expressed her sorrow if her eyes didn't.  
Max narrowed his own eyes, trying to understand her.

"I won't say anymore on that subject because…it's not time. And it will only cause more damage to be done that's already going to be done." She said.

Max looked down at Blair, who was sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other.

----

The girl ate her sandwich, enjoying every bite, and she wondered what her new name would be.

"I hope they don't name me something weird, like Eva." She groaned, taking a sip of lemonade.  
"Or Rachel." She added, thinking of the nickname 'Rach'. It sounded nails on a chalkboard.

"I hope it's something pretty like…Gretchen, or…Kinsey, or…ooh, Danielle."

She finished her sandwich, still thinking of names.

_I'm glad I don't have to name myself. Too many names for me to decide._ She thought.

She put her dishes in the sink and rinsed them off. Then, she wiped her hands off with a paper towel, and walked out around to the corner, and peeked.  
"Can I come out?" she called out, loud enough for them to hear.

"Yes," Max called, waving a hand toward her.  
She skipped out to the living room. "Thank you for the sandwich." She said to Aimee politely.  
Aimee smiled. "You're welcome, darling." She replied.  
Gorgeous smile. Gorgeous face, beautiful eyes.

_Stupid pretty people._

"We've decided on a name," Max told her brightly.  
She waited for it.  
Anticipation surged through her veins in the form of adrenaline.  
Her fingers squirmed, clenching and unclenching and her eyebrows lifted high up on her forehead.  
She smiled at Max waiting.

"We've decided on…."


	6. Chapter 6

*Meet Charlotte go running*

The moment was coming, and she knew it. But how the anticipation ripped at her chest, like a wild cat trying to get out of a cage.  
There were so many things they could name her, and so many of those many were names she wouldn't want any part of.  
Like Erma.  
And Norma-Jean.  
And Jo-Beth.

And Felicia.

Not, of course that those were bad names, they probably suited someone else very nice. But not her.  
She walked out to the living room where the five members of the Allen family were all staring at her.  
Max was grinning from ear to ear, and Antilania seemed uninterested.

"We've decided on this..." Max told her, and handed her a piece of paper.

_Oh my God!_ Her mind screamed. She could just see Erma Burgundy-Penelopey Allen written all over the paper.  
In the corner, she saw Blair snort and hold in a laugh. Aimee gave him a sharp look.

She dared to look at the paper.

**Charlotte**

She stared at the paper.  
Charlotte.  
That was her new name.  
She loved it.  
Charlotte.

She looked up at Greyson and Aimee.  
"I love it," she told them, and smiled at Max, who seemed utterly delighted.

It was amazing how she felt. She never figured that she'd feel so relieved to actually _just_ have a name.  
She looked at Max, whose grin seemed to have gotten somehow impossibly wider.  
"Thank-you, guys," she said, and looked to Blair and Antilania.  
Antilania nodded, not looking up.  
Blair smiled back at her. "You're welcome." He said calmly.

- - -

Max led Charlotte up to her room that night.  
"So," He said, opening her door. "Are you sure you're alright with your name?" he asked.  
Charlotte sighed, and sat on her bed. "Yes, Max. You've asked me like….eight times today."  
Max scratched his back. "Well…I want to make sure you're completely satisfied."  
"I am," Charlotte replied. And she was.

Charlotte got up to grab the pair of pajamas she'd worn the night before.  
"Well, Miss Charlotte, I'm glad you're satisfied with our choice, but now it's time for you to get to bed."

Charlotte furrowed her eyebrows, and looked back at Max. He was eighteen. She wasn't sure exactly how old she was, but she was sure that she wasn't too far behind. And here he was, talking to her like she was ten.

"Yes," she agreed slowly. "And you too." She added authoritatively  
"Yeah…me too," Max replied absently.

Before Charlotte could ask him what was wrong, he stood, completely interrupting anything she might have said to him, and headed for the door abruptly.  
"Well, I will see you in the morning. Good-night." And he closed the door.

With a queer look, she shrugged, and went to change into her night clothes, as well as to brush her teeth and her hair.

After she was clean, and her hair was untangled, she went and crawled into bed, being lulled to sleep by the moon shining through her window.

-------Dream--------

"Ah yes. Now, where was I?" asked the beast in her dream.  
Terrified, the girl tried to turn and run, to give her a better chance of surviving, but there seemed to be walls surrounding her, compressing her into a two-by-two foot square.

The thing totted its tongue.  
"Silly girl," it said to her. "You can't escape from here."

Charlotte suddenly lost some of her fear; enough to say, "Why not?"

"Because," the thing growled humorously. "You're the one making all this up."

Then, Charlotte's stomach plunged and the monster let out a roar. Charlotte answered it with a scream that scraped up the sides of her throat and scratched her mouth. She backed into the corner, still screaming for her life.

-------------- -----------

Cold fingers gripped her wrists, and a frozen bar pushed the air out of her lungs, causing her scratchy scream come to a raspy halt.  
Max was there, staring down at her when she opened her eyes.  
Again.

Charlotte puffed for air, her chest heaving against the increasing pressure on her stomach.  
"You okay?" he asked curiously.  
Charlotte nodded silently, and tugged at her wrists which were immobilized by Max, but he didn't seem to notice.  
"What are these dreams about?" he asked her.  
Charlotte shrugged heavily, and tugged more at his arms to release her. "Some giant beast-thing," she told him in puffs.  
"Why do you scream?" he interrogated.  
"Do you scream in your dream?"  
"Well, it's not a dream. It's an absolute nightmare. But yes, I scream, because that monster s completely terrifying, and Max, _I can't breath!" _She used the last of her air to wheeze it out.  
"Oh, oh, sorry about that," Max apologized, but continued his interrogation.  
"What is it?"  
Charlotte sighed.  
"Uhm, it's huge, furry. Long, sharp teeth. It has green eyes." She recalled. Max's eyes pressed her for more.  
"I don't really know any more. It's always hidden in the shadows."  
Max nodded. "Oh,"

Charlotte gently touched her wrists, which were tingling from the lack of blood they'd received because Max had gripped them so hard.  
"Sorry 'bout that," Max said again, hanging his head a little.  
Charlotte shrugged. "It's fine." She replied.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked her.  
"Yeah," Charlotte nodded. "Sorry I got you up outta bed," she told him.

"What?" Max asked, a confused look plastered on his face.  
"I got you out of bed," Charlotte repeated.  
"Oh!" Max realized. "Yeah, that's right. Oh, uhm…you know, it's really alright." He insisted.  
"I was worried something was eating you."

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "It almost did," she grumbled, making Max's chest heave with laughter.  
"Well, I'll let you get back to sleep." Charlotte said awkwardly.  
Max shook his head knowingly. "Like that'll happen." He mumbled.  
"It's….almost three in the morning." Charlotte protested.

Max nodded. "I know," he replied, grabbing a pillow and put it a foot away from her hip.  
"I'll stay here," he told her, settling into the pillow.

His observing golden-brown eyes met her curious green ones, and she blinked.  
There was a silent moment between them for a while, and as awkward as it should have been, Charlotte was completely at ease staring back into his almost-fluorescent eyes.

Then, he reached up for her face, and pushed light blond strands of hair out of her face, and tucked them behind her ear gently.

_For someone so massive and amazingly strong, he's extremely gentle_, Charlotte thought.  
And she let him explore her face as they stared at one another.

Had it been a movie, the girl would've jumped onto the guy and started a major make-out session that would've led to the nasty and dirty, but they were both polite.

He rolled his fingers around her cheeks, and they tingled from his iciness. He went along her high cheekbones and to her ears, rubbing the lobe between two fingers. "They're so small," he told her.  
Then, she let him trace down her face to her neckline.  
She thought for a moment that he might try and tuck his fingers below her collar, but just as she was getting to worrying about it, his fingers changed course, and lolled up to her nose.  
Charlotte was just about to ask him why his fingers were so icy, but he pulled his hand away awkwardly, and she kept her mouth shut.

Hollywood producers loved to make this kind of scene exotically sexually, where the girl could kill guys with her curves, and she turns into an experienced lover.  
_But this is how they really go,_ Charlotte thought. _No sexuality, whatsoever._

She stared back at him for a moment more before he reached out again, and touched her nose, and traveled down to her neck, along her shoulder, and down to her arm, tracing a line where freckles marked a path.

This time, Charlotte watched his fingers. In the dark, they looked like they were dancing along her skin.

"Am I bothering you?" he asked her quietly.  
Charlotte looked back up, and awkwardly shook her head into the pillow she was resting on. "No."  
"Good. I'm just….interested." he told her, and rubbed her wrist.  
Charlotte looked at him, urging him to tell her why.  
"You're the calmest person I've ever met." He explained simply.  
"Really?" Charlotte asked rhetorically. "Blair is pretty calm."

Max rolled his eyes, annoyed. "He doesn't count." He told her.

"You're not tense at all." Max added.  
Charlotte shrugged. "Iunno," she told him.

He pulled his hand away again, and tucked it against him in a way that reminded her of a baby bird.  
"Why are you still here?" she asked curiously.

Max shrugged. "I don't want you to feel scared." He told her simply.  
"I can leave if you wish," he added, sitting up.  
Charlotte shook her head quickly. "No, no, please stay," she said so fast, it sounded like she was begging him.  
Max seemed unconvinced.  
"Really," she urged. "I feel better with you here. Honestly."

Max's face brightened. "In that case," he said, and fluffed up his pillow so he was more comfortable.  
"I think I'll stare at you until you fall asleep." He announced.

"Yeah?"

Max nodded. "Yeah. Now close your eyes." He instructed.  
Charlotte stuck her lower lip out. "I don't want to," she moaned.

Truth be told, she wanted to stare at Max for the rest of the night.  
She had no clue why, but she felt attached to him, like they had known each other before _The Incident._

"Why not?" Max asked Charlotte after a moment of fluffing his pillow more.  
"Because I don't want another bad dream." Charlotte said.  
It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the answer he was implying for.  
Max chuckled softly. "What dream would dare enter your pretty head while I'm right here?" he asked her.  
Charlotte smiled, and then closed her eyes, relaxing into the pillow.

For a minute or two, she lay awake, almost squinting her eyes so she wouldn't open them by reflex, and soon, sleep deprivation took her and she fell asleep.

MAX

_My God, if she knew…if she only knew. Would she stay here with me?_  
Max stared at Charlotte, sensing as she fell into a deeper sleep by the way her breath regulated itself.  
He would lie there all night, and not move a muscle, but he would stay perfectly awake. Sleep would not take him in its wings like it did the girl that he watched.

He watched her every night since she had been in his house.  
Her sleep was so amusing. She turned in her sleep, and sometimes spoke. As far as he knew, it was just rubbish, stuff about cleaning up the mud in the bathroom and on the carpet, but around two-thirty every night, she seemed to enter a more fitful sleep. One that woke her up with screams and she starting flinging her arms and legs.

_I just hope she finds out, and it's totally destroyed,_ he thought, and he reached forward and pressed his lips to her forehead and softly kissed it.

- - -

When she woke up, she kept her eyes closed to a while She was warm, except for her right hand, which was so numb, it felt like it was going to fall right off.

She opened her eyes and found her fingers wrapped around Max's.  
She pulled it loose, and rolled her fingers over his skin.

It was hard and smooth, and most of all, cold, like frozen metal.  
She let her fingers walk their way up his arm, like he'd done to her the night before, and she wandered up to the exposed skin at the open end of his shirt.  
His shoulders met at a 'V' in the middle, and she put her finger at the hollow of his neck.

It was completely unreal. The boy was cold, as though his natural temperature was sixty below zero.  
Then, his eyes flipped open like he'd never been asleep, and Charlotte froze.  
He slowly took her hand from his neck, like he was going to grip it and break it into pieces, but instead, placed it palm-down on his cheek.

Charlotte took in a deep breath.  
Was it rude to ask the question she wanted to ask?  
Hope not.

"Why are you so cold?" she asked.  
Max looked around, an upset look displayed on his perfect face.  
"…It's…complicated." He told her delicately.  
"How so?"

"You wouldn't understand."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "I don't know a lot of things right now," she replied carefully. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't understand them if I did know them."

Max gave her an apologetic look. "I've been asked not to tell you." He warned her.  
Charlotte shrugged. "Alright." She told him.

_My God, how hard is it to tell me you're pro-hypothermic or something?!? _Her brain screamed.

She rolled back over onto her back.  
Max sighed. "_I_ want to tell you." He told her flatly.  
"But Aimee doesn't want me to know who you are, or what you do." Charlotte finished for him, repeating the conversation that she'd half-consciously heard between him and Aimee.

Max looked upset now. "You heard that?" he asked guiltily.  
Charlotte tilted her head from shoulder to shoulder. "Sort of, only the very end of it."  
"Oh,"

She gazed aimlessly at the ceiling, hoping he'd be guilt-tripped into spilling everything to her.

"You don't need to explain yourself," she prompted him.  
"But I want you to know," Max insisted.

Charlotte rolled over again. "But you won't tell me," she declared.

Max didn't move, but his eyes lied for him.  
"That's what I thought." She finished, not bothering to hide her irritation.

Then, she sat up, annoyed with lying in bed for so long after she'd woken up, and got out of the bed, letting cold air attack her warm body.

"Charlotte," Max called, but she ignored him, and left the room, goose-bumps erupting on her arms.

She went down the hall and the stairs routinely, realizing she was still in her pajamas.  
_Oh well, _she shrugged.

Greyson saw her first. "Good morning," she said brightly.  
Charlotte smiled. "Morning," she replied, pretending to be as chipper as he was.  
She was then presented with a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich and she didn't need to pretend anymore.  
"Wow," she said, as Aimee set it in front of her on a paper towel. "You're amazing!"  
Aimee grinning. "Not quite," she told her, and went to take a seat with her husband in the living room.

Blair walked into the kitchen then. "Good morning, Charlotte," he said brightly.  
_My God, these people are annoyingly perfect,_ she thought, taking a bite of her sandwich.  
She waved to Blair in return until she'd swallowed and cleared her mouth enough to good-morning him too.  
As she ate, she became increasingly aware that Aimee had come back in and sat by Blair, and they now, both of them, were watching her eat with perfectly happy faces on their faces.

Awkwardly, she set her crusts down on the paper towel, and balled them up. "You should eat too," she said carefully, avoiding their eyes.  
Blair shook his head as Aimee stood and swept away her balled up paper towel before she could push her chair back.  
"No," Blair finished with a tinkling laugh. "We already ate."

He looked at Aimee, who was grinning back and forth between Greyson and her son, and Charlotte got the feeling she was out of some joke or family thing.

When Aimee had taken all her breakfast mess away, and had gone out to the living room to join her husband, Charlotte snuck to kitchen, and started doing breakfast dishes. There were a few plates, with bits and pieces of ketchup and eggs on them.  
Aimee appeared at her side not a second later.  
"You put those down," she commanded with a flick of her first finger.  
"No," Charlotte replied, and soaped up her sponge. "You made breakfast, I shall do the dishes."

And with that, Aimee sat back against the counter, her arms folded, and watched as Charlotte calmly did the dishes.  
When she finished, Aimee glowered at her. "I'll get you back," she promised.  
Charlotte only kept the smile on her face.  
"Go get dressed," Aimee instructed, and Charlotte went back up to her room.

On her way, she met up with Antilania, who was looking past her as they crossed.  
Inspired by Greyson and Blair's mood, she opened her mouth.  
"Morrr.."  
"DON'T!!!" Antilania snapped, pausing in her tracks to glare at Charlotte.  
Charlotte glared back, irritated again now that her mood had, once again, been spoiled. That, she was fed up with the nasty looks she'd been earning from the girl.

Antilania pushed her weight to the tips of her toes to tower over Charlotte, who stared back calmly.  
"I know what you're thinking." Antilania hissed.

Charlotte remained silent.  
_I don't…_

"Stay. Away. From. Blair." She growled.

Charlotte's straight face was shot by confusion.  
"Excuse me?" she asked.  
Antilania shook her head impatiently. "Just…do it, okay."

Charlotte shook her head. "I don't understand…" she told her, trying to east the tension between them by taking a lower, less hostile tone.

Antilania sighed, growing even more impatient. "I know you don't. But you will soon. And I know what you will think and what you will…"  
"Don't!" Charlotte interrupted loudly. "Pretend to know what I think and do." She said, pressing her fingers to her temples and closing her eyes.

Antilania sputtered her tirade to a stop.

"I don't know why you dislike me so much, so…please, unless you're going to explain to me what exactly you know and how you know so much about me, stop telling me riddles and whatnot." Charlotte explained, and, refusing to look at Antilania, pushed past her and back into the kitchen. As she left, she could almost feel Antilania boring holes the size of golf-balls into the back of her head.

Aimee looked up immediately as she entered, and zoned in on her face.  
"Charlotte, you alright?" she asked.  
Charlotte nodded, distracted. "Yeah…uhm…do you know where Max is?" she asked.

Aimee flicked her finger over her shoulder toward the door that presumably led to the garage.  
"Out there?" she asked.  
Aimee nodded.  
_I didn't see him go by……_

"He's in the garage with Greyson." She finished her tone more hesitant than before, like she was hiding something.  
_I didn't see Greyson go back there either…_

"Okay, Thanks," she said, and went to open the door.  
She stepped into the heated garage, and heard Max immediately.  
"Awww, _maaaaaann_." He groaned after the sound of metal-on-concrete.

The garage was strange. You had to go down a small blocked-off path to get to the main part, so she didn't see Max, or Greyson, whom she heard next as she walked down the blocked off portion.  
"Here," said Greyson's gentle voice. "I'll get the car, you get the wrench."  
Then, Charlotte heard the groan of metal pushing against their protesting bolts, and Charlotte finished walking the short hall.  
What she saw would stay in her mind forever, no matter how many times she lost it.

Greyson had the front end of a suburban lifted up at chest height with one hand, and Max was under it, reaching for the wrench they dropped.

As soon as she was in view, Greyson's head shot over, as well as Max's, and he dropped the front end of the truck on Max.

Charlotte let out a gasp, and stepped forward a tiny bit as though she could help.

Instead of crushing the eighteen year old boy, Max let go of the wrench, and braced his arms for the suburban. He automatically pushed it off of him, and stood up, pulling the truck from the teetering two wheels it was balancing on.

His eyes were locked on Charlotte's wide with anticipation, as were Greyson's.  
Charlotte looked from each man, terrified.

It took a moment to comprehend.

Greyson had just lifted a two-ton suburban truck off of the ground with _one_ hand, if that made it any better, and dropped it on his son, who just pushed it off of him like it was no big deal.

"…Charlotte…" Max uttered, warnings written all over his perfect face.  
Charlotte somehow looked at him, her mouth open slightly in shock.  
"It's not what it looks like, okay…" Max continued carefully, trying to take a step forward. He reached for her, and that's when Charlotte came to, and her adrenaline kicked in.

She pulled her hand out and away from his reach, even though he was four feet from her.

"Don't touch me," she said in a raspy voice, a finger pointed at him.

Max tried a new tactic.  
"Charlotte, relax. Just…calm down and I'll tell you everything." He said clearly and calmly.  
Charlotte shook her head, and then she bolted.  
She ran back through the kitchen, and through the house, flying past the other two girls who were sitting at the table. Fear gripped her mind, and she ran blindly, out of the house and into the frost-biting cold.

Too bad she never went to get dressed. More so, too bad she didn't at least put shoes on this morning.  
She flew out and away from the house, shoes regardless, and down the driveway.  
She hardly thought about if she got far, how far would she make it before her toes and fingers fell off, or, how far would she get before the car-lifting kid in there would come get her.


	7. Chapter 7

Max went to rush after Charlotte as soon as she took the first step in the other direction, but Greyson clasped his shoulder firmly.  
"Greyson," Max said in a panicked voice. "I can't just let her leave,"

"Max, she just saw you nearly flip a two ton suburban on its side with a flick of your wrist," Greyson recalled. "I don't think it's best to go after her right now."

Max moved his shoulder out from under Greyson's hand. "What are we going to do then? We can't let her go too far, she'll freeze."

"I know," Greyson replied calmly. "Let Blair get her."  
Max nearly exploded. "BLAIR?!?!" he screamed.

Greyson looked back at Max with gentle, green eyes.

"That's all he wants, is to be the knight in shining armor!" he added.  
"And you don't?"  
Max went to reply, but stopped dead in his tracks. Greyson had been right.  
"And…he knows she'll listen to him…" Max finished under his dad's eyes.

Greyson sighed. "Max, I don't know why you continue to fight for Charlotte's attention."

"Because!" Max exploded again. "You heard Antilania. And Blair doesn't need that."  
Greyson went to the suburban and popped the hood up with a sharp rap of his knuckles.  
"Well, so far, everything that she's seen has come true. Are you going to stop fate?" he asked.

Max paused. "If I have to, yes." He replied firmly.  
Greyson chuckled. "You realize you can only do that by killing her," Greyson led on.  
"Yes," Max confirmed.  
"And…by doing so, you would prove Antilania's premonition right because Blair would be hurt."

Max, consumed with frustration, punched the wall next to his, and dust flecks flew around the room.  
"HEY!" Greyson snapped. "Cut that out! I _just_ patched that hole last week."  
Max guiltily picked a larger piece of wall and patted it into place. "Sorry," he replied.

"I…just don't want the kid to get hurt." Max said, continuing their conversation. "That's all."

"Well," Greyson chuckled. "He's hardly a kid. He's older that you. Technically anyways. And neither do I want him to get hurt." Greyson admitted.  
"But it's going to happen one way or another, and Charlotte is going to be either _the_ reason, or part of the reason. The least we can do is give him a heads up if we figure something out. He's already okay with set in stone."

Max shrugged. "I suppose we should let him after her now? It's been like five minutes and she's barefoot."

"Ah, yes." Greyson agreed, wiping his hands on a towel and set out for the door when Blair walked down. "Oh, there you are." He said happily.

"I heard your conversation," he told them.  
Max lifted his eyebrows until they almost knit in the middle and rolled his eyes.

"Well," Blair replied defensively. "It's kind of hard _not_ to pay attention when you're talking so boisterously. That and you screamed my name." Blair chuckled. "It was an open invite." He said to Max.

"You're mad at me?" he asked Max.

Max glowered at him with brotherly affliction. "I didn't say that." He told Blair.  
"You don't have to say anything." Blair replied sarcastically.  
Max shrugged, letting go of his nasty face. "Fair point," he agreed.

"Would you stop bickering and go find Charlotte before she catches pneumonia," Greyson snapped irritably, and Blair was gone.

- - - - -

She ran continuously, breathing hard. Her feet seemed frozen, and they slapped against the pavement like wet fish. Her breath came out and misted into the cold, numbing her nose.  
Her eyes watered against her incessant tears that were coming to rescue her eyes against the cold breeze that went against her as she ran, battering her frail clothing.

After what seemed like a mile, she lost feeling in her feet and fingers completely. Her thighs felt like robotic machines that were continuing a given rhythm.

The more she thought about it, the more she understood that she couldn't explain how she was still going on.  
Perhaps is was because if she stopped, she knew she would catch hypothermia and die in the Allen's' driveway.

Then a voice caught her attention, but she didn't stop. It was distant, impossible to make out.

Again, this time barely recognizable.  
Again, this time, she understood a name that was being called out.

Again, until she realized it was her name, Charlotte, her new name that was being called out.

_Oh yeahhh…._

Charlotte took the chance, to stop and turn around.  
Blair was thirty yards from her, and gaining.

_How did he catch up that fast?? Stupid perfect people._

"Charlotte," Blair said. He was breathing fine. She was huffing and puffing for air.  
"What?" she demanded, her voice layered with hostility.  
"Where are you going?" he asked her.  
_Where am I going?? Where do you _think_ I'm going?!?! Away from here, and your demented car-lifting, freaky-perfect-people-ing house._

"Anywhere," Charlotte said instead, putting a hand on her hip to widen her breathing capacity.

"Charlie, you don't even have shoes on." Blair pointed out.  
_Oh, like you think I didn't know…_

But she looked down at her feet anyway. They had taken on a blue tinge, and she could see her big toe threatening to fall off in T-minus thirty and counting. Maybe T-minus forty if she was lucky.

"So?" was the only thing Charlotte thought she could say at that moment.

"Charlie, come on." Blair protested.  
Then something caught her attention.  
"What did you call me?" she asked him flatly.

Blair looked around. "…Charlie?..."

"Yes, that."  
Blair looked at her now, a curious expression on his face.  
"Charlotte, please. Let me explain." He pleaded.  
Charlotte remained where she was.  
"Come on, please. Or I'll drag you." He threatened.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, and slapped her thighs in gesture of giving up.  
There was no use competing in the game of threats with a kid who could lift cars. She could definitely scream and kick and yell and put up a good fight though.  
"Okay," she gave up, and began walking back, but Blair reached out for her arm. She gave him a dirty look.  
"Can we go my way? It's much faster, and I know you're cold." He told her.  
She shrugged. Was there a point anymore?

Before she could ask him what way that might be, she was whipped through the air, and they were moving. She stared in front of her, and trees were whooshing by her backwards.  
She was on his shoulder and he was …flying?

_Great, they fly too._

In a matter of just a couple seconds, they were at the house, and he jumped onto the roof, opened the window to his room, and they were inside.  
He plopped her down on his half-bed.  
"Don't move," he instructed, and left.

_What the hell?!? _

What were these things? They flew, they lifted cars, and they jumped super high.  
Blair was back with a cup of yellow liquid before she could finish her list.

"What is going on?" She demanded, pretending that she had something on him that would make him tell her.  
Truth was, she had nothing. Great.

Blair shook his head. "I'll explain, just as I said I would, but…you need to calm down first." He told her.

"I am calm!" Charlotte snapped.  
Blair gave her a look out of the corner of his eye, and set the cup down in front of her.  
It smelled like lemonade.  
Who knew what it _really_ was?

There could be a sedative in it, or a poison, or…  
"There's nothing in it but Country Kitchen lemonade mix." Blair interrupted.  
With a suspicious look, Charlotte picked it up, and sniffed inconspicuously around the edges, searching for white powder.

"Just drink it. I swear I didn't put anything in it." Blair told her irritably.  
Charlotte put the cup to her mouth and took a tiny sip. It tasted alright. What was the point in being cautious anyway? They could do anything they wanted to her.

"Now…" Blair began, and he sat down across from her.

_God, he's gorgeous. His eyes…they're fluorescent._

_Pretty blue eyes._

They were pretty. And Charlotte was about to understand why.


	8. Chapter 8

"Now," Blair said.  
"How did you do that?" Charlotte blurted.  
"Do what?" Blair asked.

Charlotte almost growled. "Don't play innocent, you flew." She said.

Blair chuckled. "I didn't fly." He told her. "I ran."  
_Well, that makes sense too__._  
"So, you run really fast?"

Blair held up a hand. "Just…..let me talk," he said to her.  
Charlotte shut her mouth and sipped on her lemonade.

"There's a lot about me family that is extremely different." He started.  
_Oh, like you can lift cars and run with people on your shoulder and stuff__.  
_"To be honest, we try to seem normal." Blair added truthfully, scratching his neck.  
"It's easy for the most part. But we've never had a human living with us before."  
_And…you refer to me as a human as though you're not one._

"My family…we…well…to put it simply, we're not related." Blair paused.  
Charlotte put it together in her head.  
"So…" she started, and Blair answered her thoughts.

"No, Max and Antilania are not my siblings."

_Whoa._

"Greyson and Aimee are not my parents, though they are married."

"So…what are they to you?" Charlotte asked.

Blair swallowed hard. "Aimee created me." Blair said.  
_So you ARE a robot!_  
"No, we're not robots." Blair told her.  
_Then what are you?_  
"We are a mythical race that actually isn't mythical."

_Oh my gosh, he's answering everything._

Then, Charlotte got an idea.

_There's a fly on your head._

Blair brushed back his hair.

_You squashed it._  
Blair made a face, and looked at his empty hand.  
With a frown, his dazzling eyes turned to Charlotte.

_Cut that out__,_ he said to her, and Charlotte's eyes got as big as saucers.  
"Whoaa…So…you read minds?" she asked, relatively calm. She was more interested than she was frightened.  
Seriously. She's only heard of telepathy in fictional scenarios

Blair shrugged. "Yeah…" he replied.  
Charlotte was quiet for a minute. She was calculating in her head. There were two things he could be.  
A hero, one that you read about in comic books like Spider-Man or Superman…and she didn't want to think of the other possibility.

"So…what are you?"

Blair held up his hand again. "I'm not done." He stated offensively.

Charlotte sat back and folded her arms.

"There are quite a few people like use, though it's not very common to happen upon them because we aren't created too often. We're killed instead."  
Charlotte listened intently, putting all the pieces together.  
"We never sleep, and we don't eat the food that nourished your body." He told her.

Charlotte was starting to get a complex.  
She stared at her fingers, twining them around each other.  
He never slept, he didn't eat normal food, and their bodies were freezing. He somehow ran a little more than a mile in less than thirty seconds, and they came back to this room in almost no time at all.  
They could lift impossible weights. And jump high.

Blair stood up in front of her, and his shadow loomed over her.  
"We are Vampires." He said, most dignified.

Charlotte's mind raced.

_**Vampires**_. Those weren't supposed to exist, ergo, Blair's mythical creature thing.  
But Vampires were supposed to be evil, night-lurking creatures that stalk you, and suck your blood until you were undead like the rest of them.

Charlotte touched her neck subconsciously, and Blair laughed at her.  
_Oh yeah__,_ she thought, remembering his telepathy thing.  
"We don't have to bite your neck, Charlie," he said, and Charlotte almost gasped.

"I know it's a bit much at the moment, what with you settling in and all. But you're completely safe here. Nothing will happen to you." He said.  
Charlotte snorted, and Blair sat down.  
"Really, Charlie," he said, trying to persuade her.  
"I mean…if you weren't safe, and we willed you ill harm, you would be dead by now."

Charlotte considered the thought.  
"But like I said. My family is different. We don't indulge, I guess would be the right word, in the humanly pleasures that the others of our kind do. We only prey on animals. We did this morning, which was why you felt out of the loop when I said we'd already eaten. Anyway, over so many years of refraining from human blood, is sort of looses its craving, and we no longer feel overpowered by blood-lust, and in a way, we become immune."  
Charlotte nodded. "So, I'm not the lease bit appealing to you?" she suggested.  
Blair chuckled. "On the contrary, I would love nothing more than to taste your blood. But that would be detrimental to your health, so I refrain from thinking about it."  
Charlotte swallowed hard. He said it so easily that Charlotte thought he might be kidding, until she saw the look of longing on his face, and his flamboyant eyes dancing on her wrist.  
He seemed to pick up on her anxiousness. "Don't worry about me." He told her, returning to normal. "I'll never hurt you."

Charlotte stared at him, much the same as she had stared at Max earlier that morning, and for a moment, she thought she'd like nothing better than to kiss his lips. But he blinked, and the thought vanished.  
"So, I'm appealing, but not appetizing?" she asked him.  
Blair tilted his head from side to side. "No, and yes at the same time."  
"Okay, better question. You're _good…_Vampires?"  
"I suppose so, more or less anyway."

"Alright," Charlotte nodded. "I got it….I think."

"What that?" Blair asked her, amused.  
"You're super-duper strong, you're cold, you run, but not fly. You can jump really high, and you'd like to eat me, but I'm not appetizing. Yes?"

Blair let out a beautiful laugh.  
_Stupid pretty people._

"Basically," he told her.

There was a knock at the door, and Blair turned his head. "Yeah," he said, as though answering a question.

Max peered into Blair's room.  
"Hey," he said. "I thought I heard you guys in here,"  
"Oh yeah," Blair said, turning back to Charlotte. "And acutely precise hearing." He added to her list.  
Max shot a look at Blair. "You told her?"  
Blair gave him a weirder look. "What was I going to say after what she saw? And it's not like you didn't hear the entire conversation anyway."

Max stepped into the room, and gave Charlotte an apologetic look. "I'm sorry," he told her. The look on his face was sincere.  
Charlotte nodded, but the weight of all the new information was taking her down like the Titanic.  
"Yeah, it's fine." She replied, and stood, picking up her glass of lemonade. "Ill see you boys later. I'm going to my room," she announced, and slid past Max.

When she got to her room, she turned and locked the door.  
_Not that it'll do any good against a kid who can flip a car__,_ she thought absently.

Then, she snatched her journal and pen off the nightstand and started writing.

- - - - - - -beginning

So much has happened today. My life [what I now know.] has been turned upside down and reversed. Everything that shouldn't be, is. Mythical legends come true. **VAMPIRES.**

- - - - - - - -break

She wrote over the word 'VAMPIRES' a couple times absently, letting it soak in.  
Holy canola

- - - - - - - -

This…family. They're Vampires. They have cold skin, and they're super strong and really fast. They don't eat people food. They…drink, I guess, the blood of animals. They don't sleep because, obviously, they don't tire.

I wonder if they ever have to use the bathroom.  
Either way, I'm a white sheep in a house full of hungry black wolves.

Blair said I'd be fine. That I smelled good, but I wasn't appetizing. Perhaps like a candle. An apple candle. It smells good, but you wouldn't want to eat it, for obvious reasons, no doubt.  
But I'm worried Antilania might eat me anyway.  
She hates me. And I don't know why. Something about knowing what I will know. We got into an argument earlier today, which is the whole reason why I know about this demented bunch of…beings. She said something about leaving Blair alone, and I don't know yet, but she knows that I will know.  
I don't know, it's really confusing.

But Blair said his family spends more time trying to fit in than really being themselves.

Things to remember:  
-Don't go out in the cold barefoot and run.

-------break

She touched her swollen feet.

-------

-Don't run from vampires. They catch up.

-Try not to be so good-smelling. [Antilania might eat me.]

----End

----Dream--------

"Welcome back!" said the wolf-like creature.  
Charlotte rolled her eyes. "This scaring thing is getting old." She told him dully.  
"I wasn't trying to," it told her.  
"Mmmm," she replied indifferently.

The creature tilted its head, and for the first time, Charlotte noticed that the giant thing spoke in her head like Blair had earlier.  
"Aww," it said. "You didn't miss me?"  
Charlotte rolled her eyes again. "Not really," she told it.  
"Shame, because I missed you."  
"Really?" Charlotte asked inquisitively. "I got the impression that you wanted to eat me."  
The creature, which was in the shadow of the trees, presumably beyond the limitations of her invisible box scoffed  
"If I had, I would have no company, and you're internal fire would have been extinguished, O' brilliant one."

Charlotte frowned. "Why are you talking like that?" she asked it.  
In her mind, she felt it shrug. "I don't know, sounded cool, I guess."

She sat back against the invisible wall she was enclosed in and sighed.

"So," she said. There was nothing better to do than converse with the monster. "What are you?"  
It felt like a redundancy asking that question. She'd asked it many times that day.  
"Your twin, a dog, a toy, a friend, a bird, just a voice in your head. You're the one deaming, you tell me." It replied.

"Try Prince Charming." She dared it, and a young, attractive guy decked out in old English royalty wear stepped out from the shadows. He sported red hair and hazel eyes.

"Better?" he asked. His voice was less raspy, less terrifying.  
Charlotte shrugged, her hands on her knees, supporting her chin.

"Look, I'm here because there's too much to handle for you at the moment…" Prince Charming paused suddenly.  
"I'll continue later, you're going to wake-up soon." He said, and with a flash of white, everything was gone, ands he was suddenly aware of her surroundings.

---End of Dream----

Her eyes opened and she was overwhelmed by the white, then darkness.  
She made out a large figure sitting on her bed.  
She waited for her night vision to be restored to her before she spoke.  
"Max," she said.  
Max remained silent.

Charlotte sat up, and pushed her hair out of her face, moving her journal out of the way.

"So, you know," Max said sullenly.  
Charlotte nodded. "Yeah. Why didn't _you_ tell me?" she asked.

Max snorted. "Well, it's not something that I thought I should tell you right away. It tends to scare people." He told her.

Charlotte was about to protest when Max interrupted her.  
"Charlotte," he sighed her name. "You were clueless. We were strangers to you, and that wasn't something else I was willing to put on your at that time."  
"You still should've told me," Charlotte snapped bitterly.

"And say what? Oh, yeah, by the way Charlotte. Good-morning, and we're Vampires, but we won't suck your blood." He retorted.

Charlotte giggled. He was kind of cute when he was mad. His muscles tensed up and his lower lip stuck out a little more than usual, and he harrumphed a lot, making his massive body heave.

"Well, it would've left fewer problems on your part," she told him.  
"You're not a problem," Max told her innocently.

Charlotte snorted. "Yeah right. I've been nothing but an inconvenience."  
"No, you haven't."  
"Max, don't lie to me,"  
"I'm not."

Charlotte looked up at him, her legs crossed under the covers.  
Max sighed. "Charlotte, everyone is…happier that you're here." He told her.  
"We never get visitors, for apparent reasons. We never do anything except try to appear to be normal."

Charlotte snickered. "How is Antilania normally?" she asked sarcastically, not expecting her demeanor to have changed.  
"Actually, she's a snake." Max laughed with her.  
"But believe it or not, she's changing for the better everyday. This morning, she hugged me."

Charlotte lifted her eyebrows. "Impressive."  
"Yeah," Max agreed.  
"Just…five her a couple weeks. She'll warm up…metaphorically speaking anyway,"

Charlotte giggled, and then let the conversation fall to silence.  
She observed Max.

He was very handsome, especially in the dark. His hazel yes seemed to glow in the dark, just like Blair's, and for some reason, she wanted nothing more than to touch his cold face.  
And she did.

She reached forward slowly like he had done the night before, and silently asked permission to touch him.  
Max met her request by leaning forward.

She touched his nose and went down to the corner of her mouth.  
"Can I see something?" she asked quietly.  
Max dipped his head once.

Charlotte pushed aside her covers and crawled to the edge of the bed where he was situated.  
With quick fingers, she pulled up his top lip and inspected his teeth.  
She saw nothing abnormal, and unsatisfactorily, dropped his lip.  
Max laughed heartily. "Were you expecting giant venomous fangs?" he asked her.

Charlotte shrugged guiltily. "Yeah," she admitted.  
Max smiled. "Not quite." He told her. "Although vampire teeth are wicked sharp, and our salivary glands secrete venom when we think of food or blood or something."

Charlotte nodded, and she added that to her list.

"Good, now, get to sleep. We're going out tomorrow."  
"What?!?"  
Max gave her a blank look. "Aimee wants me to take you shopping." He informed her.  
Charlotte sighed. "Oh," she replied.  
"Well, I'll see you in the…"  
"No!" Charlotte let out, ruining his bed work as she sat up quickly.  
Max gave her a queer look. "What?" he asked.

_What am I doing?_ "Stay here please?" she pleaded.

Max's eyebrows met in the middle. "Why?" he asked curiously.

"Because the nightmares don't come when you're here," she told him seriously.

He looked at her like a parent would look at their young child.  
"Okay," he replied, and shrugged. He closed her door, and climbed up into the bed, lying on top of the covers, a respectable foot and a half away from her.  
He stared at her lightly until her eyes fluttered closed for the last time and sighed.

He felt drawn to her.  
For no reason in particular.  
And he knew it would never work between them.  
She wasn't supposed to be with him.  
Antilania had seen differently.

But how he wished that she could be.  
He loved being with her, and for the moments that they were in each others presence, he remembered the stomach-dropping feeling he used to get when he was human, he felt as though blood was rushing through his veins, even though his cheeks wouldn't show a tinge of color that he was blushing mentally.  
The only person who would know would be Blair.

The only person that would care would be Blair.


	9. Chapter 9: Shopping

Light streamed into Charlotte's room when she opened her eyes. She looked around, squinting, and saw that she was curled up against Max, a blanket between the two.

He was playing with a strand of her hair, twirling it around his fingers delicately.

He noticed her eyes flutter open, and dropped her hair.  
"If you weren't breathing, I would have been sure that you were dead." He told her with a smile.  
Charlotte grinned, stretching. Why is that?" she asked.  
"Because you've slept from about six last night to nine this morning.

"Oh," charlotte replied. "Sorry?"

Max shook his head. "Don't worry about it. There's plenty of time."  
"For what?"  
Max chuckled. "You forgot already?" he asked her.

Charlotte yawned. "Some of us don't stay up all night thinking about it." She replied, remembering what it was that she was supposed to remember.  
_I'm going shopping,_ she thought.

Max nodded. "True," he pointed out. "Now, get dressed," he instructed, going from a sitting position to a standing position in a fluid movement with grace that astounded her. She turned from him to keep him from seeing her open mouth. "Alright," she said, and her voice cracked.  
She winced, embarrassed, and bent over to get jeans out of a drawer, wondering whose they were.  
"I'll be in my room," Max told her, and shut the door behind him gently.

"Why did I have to crack at that moment," she moaned to herself, and slipped out of the jeans she'd worn the day before and fell asleep in.  
_And why is he so attractive?!?_  
She pulled on the new pair of jeans, and found a long sleeved winter theme shirt.

She then went to the bathroom and ran the new brush through her hair and washed her face after pulling it up into a pony-tail. She brushed her teeth with the new toothbrush and the brand new tube of Colgate brushed her teeth.  
She spied a bottle of lavender spray in the corner, grabbed it, and spritzed her clothes gently all over, and then left the bathroom.

Grabbing a large, white, fluffy jacket, she walked out of her room and found Max in the room with the futon.

"Hey," she said.  
Max looked up, closing a book. "Wow." He mumbled.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Yes, my face is clean," she told him knowingly.

Max shook his head no.  
"Not that," he told her, and stood up, walking toward her with a curious glint in his eye that Charlotte couldn't place.

When he got to her, he closed his eyes, and placed his hands carefully on her shoulders.

Then, he opened them. "You smell," he said, taking a whiff.  
"Delicious. I love whatever you put on." He told her.

Charlotte gave him a weird look. "Well…if that's a bad thing, I'll go shower or something," she told him warily.

Max shook his head. "You're fine. It's fine." He told her.

Charlotte nodded. "Alright," she said, slightly worried as to how 'delicious' she smelled.  
"Thanks…"

Max grinned at her, sensing her cautiousness, and chuckled.  
"Let's go," he said, and gently led her out of his room.

Charlotte looked into Blair's room, and she caught Blair watching her, so she smiled.

"Are you coming?" she asked him.  
Max appeared at her side. "No, he's not." He announced as if Charlotte had asked him.  
"Oh," Charlotte replied, and returned an apologetic smile.

"Have fun, Charlie!" Blair called out, and waved, a happy look on his face.

Charlotte, confused and slightly irritated, waved back, before she was dragged away by Max.  
"Come-on," he urged Charlotte.  
"Coming, coming," she replied, and hurried to catch up with Max's long strides.  
Max had taken three steps going down the stairs, making Charlotte envy him as she took every one.

Max turned and waited for her at the bottom of the steps, amused by her short legs.  
"Slow poke." He called her affectionately.  
"Not all of us are oober fast," she replied calmly, following him toward the garage door in the kitchen.

Then, Max stopped, and Charlotte put a hand out in front of her to stop her from plowing into his rear.  
He turned around, and for some reason, Charlotte's stomach dropped uncomfortably.  
"You know, you seem really cool with the fact that I'm a monster." He told her stately.

Charlotte smiled back at him.  
"That's because you're not one." She replied.

Then, Max leaned on his toes, making himself just that much taller that he already was, towering even more so over her head.  
"Aren't I?" he asked her, a threat evident in his voice.

Charlotte didn't move.  
He was terrifying, to be honest.  
With mean hazel eyes and thick but neat brown eyebrows, his scowl was highlight of his face. His body made up for the bulk of his weight. He was absolutely massive, if you stood back for a good look. He wasn't disgustingly massive, but before he turned inhuman, Charlotte would place a large bet that he could break a wooden baseball bat without too much stress.

"You aren't scared of me." Max told her quietly. "You find us attractive, you let us feed you, clothe you, house you. And you trust me. Shouldn't that make me the worst monster of them all?" he asked her.

Charlotte was feeling out of place now, and for a fleeting second, she felt the need to run. But common sense washed over her, and she realized that no matter where she decided to go, he'd catch her before she took five steps.

He could do anything to her. Anything at all.  
He could rip her in half without any resistance whatsoever.  
She was incomparably small next to him.  
Like an ant on the earth.  
He could force her to do anything. He was so strong and so fast.

It was almost too much to handle.

_'He won't hurt you, you know?'_ said a voice.  
She was sure it was Blair.  
He was the only one except the thing in her dreams that talked to her in her head.

But still, she couldn't get rid of the feeling of helplessness that Max had put on her.  
_He's just making a point. And a very valid one at that._

_Blair? _She asked.  
There was something in her brain that seemed to smile.  
Charlotte looked up at Max with newly-found confidence.

"Well, you're only a monster if you want to be," she said carefully.  
"So," she continued, feeling her courage come racing back to her. She took a step to her left and forward toward Max.  
"Are you a monster?" she asked, flicking her eyes up to his, running her tongue over her lips, and pulling the corner of her lower lip in with her teeth.

Max smiled at her. "It depends on who, or what, you ask." He told her, and Charlotte grinned. "I'll be sure not to ask the furry creatures of the forest," she told his sarcastically.  
Max nodded. "That would be a good thing." He replied. "So, who is asking?" he asked.  
"I'm asking," Charlotte replied.  
"Well, am I?"

Charlotte stared into his gorgeous hazel eyes.  
Truly and completely, there was nothing special about his eyes. They were a medium hazel, with flecks of gold, just like any other hazel eye. But his seemed to glow with a fierce intensity Charlotte wished she herself had.  
"No," she told him flatly.  
Max's eyes seemed to smile at her. "Then I guess I'm not. For now…"  
Charlotte gave him a look, and pushed his shoulder lightly, knowing it wouldn't do anything to him, but he gave way, and moved anyway.

"Now," she said. "Where are we going?"

Max went back to his previous composure. "Out," he told her, grabbed her hand, and pulled her through the rest of the house to the garage.

She looked around for the first time, and noticed an old camaro in the corner, and the suburban which was actually an Escalade once she got a closer look at it.  
"We'll be taking the BMW," Max told her, walked to the passenger side of the black car, and opened the door for her.  
Charlotte thanked him, and got in.  
Next thing she knew, Max was in the seat next to her. "Buckle up," he instructed, and Charlotte followed orders.

Max then stuck the key in and turned the ignition, and the car roared to life with its deafening rumble. Charlotte controlled her desire to cover her ears.

Max quickly rolled a knob on his stereo down, and looked up at Charlotte, who was giving him an inquisitive look.  
"I like my music loud," he told her, threw his right arm around the back of her seat, and backed out of the driveway, watching Charlotte the entire time.

He rolled down their long drive-way in silence, giving Charlotte time to admire the frosted scenery.  
Snow was slowly melting, and in places that the sun shined, it was gone, leaving a path of evergreen grass. In other places, shadowy places, snow was still present, and Charlotte scooted her feet closer to the heater on the floor.  
The drive-way was nicely paved, and shrubbery lined the sides in elegant designs, obviously the work of Aimee's direction.

They came to the end of the drive-way which led to a semi-busy road that looked like it lead to another building complex.

Then, Max leaned over the wheel, and gunned the gas, and they sped out into traffic, causing Charlotte to grab onto her arm holds.

Max looked over at her and laughed. "Did I scare you?" he asked her.  
Charlotte flipped her head around to glare at him. "You could have killed us!" she replied.

Max snorted. "Hardly 'us'." He replied. "You, maybe. But there weren't any cars coming anyway, so don't freak out."  
"How would you know?!" Charlotte demanded.  
Max cast her a look, one eyebrow raised.  
_Oh yeah, that super sensitive hearing thing…_ Charlotte remembered.

"So, relax, chill out, you're safe, okay?" Max said to her, his eyes dancing from two cars in front of him who pulled out, and he touched his brakes.

"I'm not a monster, remember?" he asked, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

"No, but your car is," Charlotte mumbled, closing her eyes.

As they drove, Charlotte stared out the window.  
There were lots of buildings and houses intermixed. There were town houses and condos, small houses and large ones like the one that the Allen's lived in. The buildings ranged accordingly as well.  
There were tall skyscrapers and long, fat buildings.  
Banks and companies, individual companies and chains.  
Small fashion boutiques and privately owned restaurants.

Max pulled into a small parking lot and parked right in front of a sign that said 'Mary Ellis' Kitchen.'.  
"What are we doing?" Charlotte asked.

Max smiled. "I actually almost forgot that you need to eat. Your body needs…nourishment more often that I do,"

He explained things to her as though she were watching an information channel or something.

With a sigh, she got out, her door already opened, thanks to Max, and followed him in.  
"I've heard from other humans that this is a good place," he informed her, opening the door for her.  
"Never heard of it," she assured Max, and walked in.

Instantly, the smell of hamburgers wafted into her nose, and her mouth began to water.  
"I'm sure you have, if you lived here." Max replied.  
Charlotte figured out why he said it.  
The place was packed.  
"Maybe we should go somewhere else," Max said, and pulled her out of the restaurant quickly, disappointing Charlotte's taste buds.  
"Well, okay," she replied, and let him drag her out.  
They got in the car, Max quickly buckling her seatbelt for her, and flicked the key, starting the engine, and he threw the car in reverse.

Charlotte pondered what got Max in such a funk, and caught sight of someone in her mirror running after the car.  
"What's she…" Charlotte began to say, but Max pulled away onto the highway as soon as she began to get the words out of her mouth.  
"Not important," he grumbled, flicking his blinker on and swerving into the next lane.

"We'll just get some lunch at the mall," he added, and snickered. "Well, you can anyway," he said, and reached for his volume dial.

It should have been weird to her. Actually, he should have creeped her out. The fact that he was a vampire should have scared her beyond comprehension.  
But there she was, sunning around town with a guy that couldn't die.

_Well, when it's put like that…_

Suddenly, she said, "Can I ask you a really silly question?" projecting over the music.

Max reached up and turned it down with two beautiful fingers.  
His eyes furrowed, seeming worrisome, and he had a reason to be worried.  
He'd been waiting for the moment she started asking her questions, and there were only about a million and four of them that she could ask.

"Yes," he replied carefully, trying to stay calm.  
Charlotte thought for a moment, trying to formulate her question.  
"How do you do normal human stuff?" she asked.

Max was confused. "Like…"  
"Like digest, go to the bathroom, breath, blink,…your brain function…" she rambled off.  
Max laughed, relieved, and it made Charlotte blush.

His laughter was so pretty. It was so natural, and sounded like a god laughing. Her laughter sounded like a donkey braying.

"Well, we don't go to the bathroom, first off, and we don't have to blink, or breath, or anything. However, I don't know why or how we digest or use blood when we thirst." He told her.  
"So…you don't have to breathe?" she asked.  
Max shook his head, his eyes on the road. "Nope. We don't have to. But we need air in our lungs just like you do if we intend to talk, and life without smell is…bland, I guess would be the right word. And unless you want your eyeballs to dry out, you have to blink, so we do that. Most of all this stuff comes naturally though. Like blinking, breathing, all that jazz. What's completely and utterly not normal is our thirst." He added, and pulled onto a side road for a while. He came out into a large housing area, and then down a long road until he suddenly drove into a large complex with lots of cars in the parking lot.  
On the doors of the stores, she assumed they were, were large, identical wreaths with big, red bows on the bottoms.  
Out front was a trailer, and on top of it was a long sign with red letters on it that spelled out: CHRISTMAS TREES!

Charlotte's head snapped to Max. "What day is it?" she asked frantically.

"December 24th." Max replied casually.

Charlotte sat back in her seat.  
She didn't really know who she was, and it was Christmas Eve. Her family, if she had one, must be worried about her.  
She sighed, wishing she could figure everything out. Like a math problem. But like math, there were variables that needed to be figured out, and at the moment, she didn't know how to figure them out.

"Something wrong?" Max asked her, quickly glancing from her to the road, back to her.  
Charlotte shrugged. "I guess not," she replied, watching as Max smoothly pulled into a parking slot.  
Max cut the engine, and looked at her expectantly.  
"I just wish I could remember things," Charlotte explained, clearly not wanting to talk about it, and she unbuckled.

The air outside was still and breezeless, but easily below thirty.  
Charlotte zipped up her white jacket all the way, and tucked her hands into her pocket.  
"Ready?" Max asked her.  
Charlotte nodded, and they headed towards the entrance of JCPenny.

---

"So, what are we doing here?" Charlotte asked, trying to get her thoughts off whatever home she could have been at at that moment.  
She skipped to keep up with Max's longs strides.  
"Shopping." Max replied unenthusiastically.  
Charlotte made a face. "For Christmas presents?" she asked.  
Max shrugged. "You could say that."

Knowing he obviously didn't want to talk, Charlotte resorted to following him around the store.  
He was around the men's section, picking up a pretty, but still manly, red sweater, and put it in a basket he'd picked up along the way.

Then, he walked around to the women's and misses section.

He ambled through the isles, touching a few racks here and there.

_He must be looking for stuff for Antilania._ She thought.

He picked up a few shirts and sweaters, jeans and slacks.  
Then, he led Charlotte to the fitting rooms.  
"Go try these on," he instructed, and handed the basket to her.  
Charlotte just stared at them. "What?" she asked finally.  
"Go and try these on. Put the ones you like in one pile and those you don't care for in another pile." He added, and ushered her into the fitting rooms.  
"And I want to see them on you." Max added.

Charlotte went into a stall and took out some of the clothes.  
There was a royal blue sweater, and a chocolate brown one with a scoop neck. There was another short-sleeve shirt that was black with stars on it, and four pairs of pants.  
Charlotte put on the chocolate sweater first.  
It had an overly large scoop neck that opened into a cup like area of fabric that rested on her chest.  
She then slipped into a pair of jeans and walked out of the fitting room into the hall to show the demanding Max.

When she spotted him, leaning against a wall, one leg propped up and his hands crossed over his chest, staring at a mother and her child arguing about clothes.  
As soon as she stepped into view, his head snapped toward her. His eyes traveled her body respectfully, skipping over her upper chest part to her lower half.  
"It looks good. Do you like it?" he asked.  
Charlotte nodded. "Yeah, it's cute." She replied, and tugged at the material. "I'll go finish trying the rest on, and come show you." She announced, and turned to leave.  
"You know, if you really don't want to, you don't have to come show me." He announced to her carefully._  
_ Charlotte shrugged. "Well, if you're going to get all these for her, I should show you, shouldn't I?" Charlotte asked calmly.

For the first time, Max looked vulnerable. His face was loose and confused, and he squinted.  
"Charlie," he said slowly. "You think I'm having you try on clothes for Antilania?" he asked her.  
"Well, yeah," Charlotte shrugged. "We're about the same size, I guess. She's a bit smaller, everywhere, but…" she slowed to a stop when Max's face became contorted.  
"Charlie," he breezed, with a sigh. "These clothes are for you." He informed, and Charlotte's cheeks flushed with embarrassing red, hot blood.  
"Greyson and Aimee thought that I should take you out shopping so you could get whatever clothes you wanted. That and Antilania is getting a little tired of sharing her clothes. She's OCD about that kind of stuff."  
Charlotte grimaced. "These are all nice, but…I just need like t-shirts and jeans, right?" she asked, pulling on the sleeves of her sweater.

Max snorted. "Hardly." He told her, and then he reached for her.  
"Blair said you'd disagree with all this," he said calmly, his voice as smooth as the petals of a rose.  
"Prove him wrong for me? I don't want to take much more time or effort than is really needed." He persuaded.

Charlotte clamped her mouth shut. She actually was going to object to getting such nice clothes. Really, all she needed were a couple t-shirts and jeans, and a jacket or two. She could get more luxury items once she got money.  
But Max said Blair said she would put up a fight, and it caused her to slip to the defensive.  
She's already made up her mind not to make Blair right by the time Max mentioned his proposal.

"It's just…" she said, and looked at the price tag on the sweater. It read to her 45.00, which wasn't entirely bad, but she could find something almost equally similar at a retail shop.  
"You feel bad about letting us spend so much money on you?" Max suggested for her.  
Charlotte inclined her head. "Well, yeah," she agreed.

Max smiled at her. "Let's just call this a Christmas gift, and it'll be no big deal." He told her.

Charlotte looked at Max with his hazelnut eyes, brown, chocolaty hair and his lopsided grin.  
Greyson had sent him on a mission and she knew he would not go home until he's accomplished it.  
She did feel bad though. She had no way of repaying the Allen family until she got a job, but that would be after school started, if she still went to school anymore.

"Alright, alright, what's my budget?" she compromised and Max grinned so wide, his teeth sparkled.  
"I don't know. I was sent with the card. So don't worry about that."  
Charlotte was about to object again, but she caught a look in Max's eyes that was eager for her to fight with him some more.  
"Go get a cart," she said instead. Disappointed, Max obliged.

With renowned confidence, Charlotte went back into her dressing room, trying on each piece of clothing, setting aside pieces she liked, another pile for others she didn't and those that were a possibility if she thought about it more.  
She came out with all five pairs of jeans, both sweaters, and set the t-shirts on a rack for the sales attendant to put back.

When she finished in JCPenney, she had the sweaters, another two pairs of pants to go with the five she'd already gotten, a cute pair of light tan boots called 'Uggs', a black shirt with stars all over it, a yellow shirt with a scoop neck, and a polo with blue and white stripes on it.  
She's also gotten a large, puffy chocolate and turquoise jacket (apparently se was using Aimee's jacket), and a scarf and hat set.

"Your total is 506.98" the cashier said with a sway of her hips and a flick of her hair, and Charlotte's heart slammed into her throat uncomfortably.  
Max handed the lady his card, and she swiped it through the scanner with as much promiscuity as she could muster, handed it back, and stroked the side of Max's hand.  
He apparently didn't notice, because he stuffed the card into his wallet and his wallet into his back pocket.  
The lady folded his sweater ever so neatly into a bag, and shoved the rest of Charlotte's into a bag carelessly, making Charlotte roll her eyes in frustration.

The cashier's mouth was slightly open as she stripped Charlotte's clothes off their hangers and balled up the garments, shoving them haphazardly into the bags.  
"Anything else for you?" she asked Max.  
Max shook his head. "No," he said sternly, handed Charlotte two bags, took the other three, and left the store, closely followed by Charlotte.

She was dying to ask him why he didn't ask the girl to stop staring at him, or didn't return her affections.  
Maybe he was used to it.  
He'd been eighteen for years now.  
Maybe he didn't ignore it. He was probably used to it after all the years.  
Yeah, that was it.  
Still, the look the lady gave him bothered her, but she couldn't put her finger on the reason why.

"What's wrong?" Max asked her suddenly, causing her to nearly trip over her own feet in the middle of the street.  
Once she got her balance, she shook her head, and walked around the Max's car. "Nothing, just thinking."

Once all the bags were in the trunk, they got into the car, and Charlotte buckled up.  
Max snickered, and revved his engine, rolling out of his parking space and into another one across the parking lot.  
"Another store?" she asked.  
Max only nodded, killed the engine, and stepped out into the bitter cold that Charlotte was sure he couldn't feel.

They walked into Macy's, and were immediately smacked in the face with all the different smalls of perfumes and colognes.  
Charlotte glanced at Max, whose face was stiff, and she got the notion that he wasn't breathing.  
_Lucky bastard_.

She followed him around the isles, and stopped suddenly, plowing into his back. Her knees buckled, and she gripped his arm for support, which didn't give any slack in the least.  
His skin, even through the fabric of his leather jacket was cold as ice and she hurriedly straightened herself and shoved her hands in her pockets.  
"Go ahead and pick one out," Max instructed.

Awkwardly, Charlotte stepped out on her own towards a table with displays of intricate little bottles of all colors, shapes and sizes.  
She spent twenty minutes searching one that she could imagine herself wearing at least once a week. Some were too strong, some didn't even smell.  
There were some that repulsed her with the scent of musk, and Charlotte quickly learned how to tell which ones were ones that she might like, and those she wouldn't.

She determined that she liked the clean smelling ones, ones that were fruity, but not over-bearingly watermelon or apple. She also liked flowery, and in the end, she picked out Happy by Clinique.

"This one?" she said, lifting it to Max's nose for approval.  
Max carefully undid the lid, cupped his hand around the tip, and inhaled.  
His eyes closed, and his chest heaved, then, he looked down at Charlotte. "This is you," he agreed with a nod.

He took the bottle from her, and went to the check-out counter.  
"59.45." the sales lady announced, and Charlotte grimaced. She'd been aiming for a cheaper perfume, but after looking at so many, she left out checking the sales tag.

Max whipped out his card and the lady ran it through the slot.

When the lady gave Max his bag, he looped his arm through Charlotte's. "Let's go eat," he announced.  
They stopped at a subway, and Max bought Charlotte a four-inch sub and a cup of veggie soup, and a medium drink for them both.

"So," Charlotte started when they sat down.  
Max sat back and got comfortable.  
"Why don't you eat?" she asked, unwrapping her sub.

Max shrugged. "Because I don't need to. I only thirst."  
"For blood," Charlotte confirmed.

Max glanced around, seemingly uncomfortable. "Yes," he answered warily.

"But," Charlotte began, swallowing a mouthful. "Doesn't food smell appetizing? That must make you want to eat it."

Max shrugged casually and took a sip of his water. "It's about as appealing to me as blood is to you."

Charlotte's upper lip curled in the corner. "It smells like metal." She commented.  
Max smiled. "Essential nutrients." He shrugged again.

"So…you could eat people food if you wanted to?" she asked curiously.  
"Yes, I could eat **people food**, but it might make me gag." He replied sarcastically.

Charlotte tilted her head. "How come?" she asked, and took another bite.

Max gave a stray look to the sub she'd just munched on.

"It smells revolting to me." He sniffed.  
Charlotte raised an eyebrow, and looked at her food. "It does?? It smells pretty darn good."

Max nodded and rolled his eyes, letting Charlotte finish her lunch in peace.

"Okay, so," Charlotte said after swallowing, and Max laughed. "More questions." He commented.  
"Why are we buying all this stuff?"

"Because it's Christmas time, silly," Max told her happily. "You remember what Christmas is, right?" he asked, making sure.  
Charlotte waved her hand. "Yeah, yeah. But I don't _need_ all this stuff."

"Well," Max added. "You're living with us. And Aimee wants you to have your own clothes and Antilania wants her clothes back."  
"Oh, yeah," Charlotte said dully.  
"So we need to get you about ten more regular shirts, a couple more jeans, pajamas, underwear and…" Max stopped and adverted his eyes from her chest.  
She giggled at his incapability to say the word bra.

"I can handle that if you want." She told him.  
Max smiled sheepishly. "That would be best. For you, anyway. I can give my opinion on colors and stuff, though." He added brightly, and Charlotte laughed.  
"Whatever you say," she replied, balled up her wrapper, and supped her drink.  
"So, are you going to give me a budget?" she requested.

Max sighed, impatient. "Charlie. We don't eat. We don't sleep. And we've been around since forever and a day ago. We really don't have a serious financial limitation." He tried to explain, but Charlotte was determined to get a straight answer from him.  
Charlotte glared at him, and spooned hot soup.  
"Charlotte," Max protested. "We have banks all over the world. They're all extremely stable. If it came down to everything, we have more money than Oprah Winfrey."

Charlotte lifted an eyebrow stubbornly.

Max groaned. "Fine. Your budget it $500,000." He snapped.  
Charlotte almost let her jaw drop and gape at the amount he'd given her, but she refused to let him see her beaten.  
"That's all?" she asked sarcastically, lifted the cup and tilted the rest of the soup into her mouth. Then, she stood and went to dump her trash.

Max rolled his eyes and sat back, watching her go.  
The place reeked to him. There were smells of human food all over the place. He thought back to when he could eat the stuff, and the thought revolted him.

Charlotte came back and grabbed her cup, putting the straw to her lips.  
"Ready?" she asked Max, who stood up, possibly a little too quickly, but to anyone watching, it would've seemed like he was already standing.  
He flashed Charlotte a devious smile, and a thought crossed her mind as he led Charlotte to another store.

Just how _long_ had he been eighteen? How long had he known her, if he knew her at all before she lost her memory?  
He just seemed to understand her in some way. He knew what she liked, and what she wanted, what she preferred.

Or maybe if was all a coincidence.

* * *

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	10. Chapter 10 : Mission disaster avoided

"Thanks for coming with me," Max said.

Charlotte lifted an eyebrow. "Did I have a choice?" she asked him comically.

Max let out a breath in a laughing way. "Well, you could have refused to go…" he suggested, trailing off.  
"And?" Charlotte continued, waiting for him to finish.

"But I would have carried you the entire way," Max replied quickly, throwing his head Charlotte's direction with a shrug, and pressed on the gas to make a yellow light.  
Charlotte pretended to be calm, even though her heart was hammering a mile a minute. Max, she determined, was a crazy driver.

"I figured as much," she replied, and held onto the center console and her right arm rest.

Once they hit the highway, Max sped up to ninety, and continued at that speed until he got to his housing complex.  
He went down another seven miles around the forested housing unit while Charlotte closed her eyes and leaned against the window, pretending to rest her eyes.  
Really, she was trying to calm her heart rate and convince her stomach that it was a bumpy road. Oh, it was bumpy alright.

To calm down, she went over everything he'd gotten her that day.

One white sweater.

Two loop, not scoop, neck sweaters, one was navy blue and the other was a pretty emerald green.

Three regular shirts; yellow, red and light blue.

Max had forced her to her a light orange long-sleeved shirt that he insisted looked great op her.  
Six pairs of normal jeans, two pairs of khaki's, a pair of black jeans and two pairs of black yoga pants.

Max had bought her numerous packages of socks, a black pack, a white pack, and several multi-colored packs, and then he gave her some money (200 dollars, which amazed Charlotte) to go get bras and undies.

"You can…you know, go get your undergarments and stuff," he said, handing her two dollar bills which she found out later to be two Benjamin Franklins.

Charlotte giggled at his obvious discomfort on the subject of female clothing items.

"I mean," he had said, his tone of voice getting funny. "I'll come if you need me to, but I doubt you'll want to show me,"

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, folding the two dollars, of which she was still oblivious to their faces, in quarters and put them in her pocket.

"What I mean to say is…I don't expect you to show me or anything. I mean…I wouldn't want you to. I mean…I would want you to but, I wouldn't let you because…"  
Charlotte was grinning by now, her hand on her hip.  
Max sighed. "Just go." He begged, and Charlotte turned for the female department.  
Charlotte obeyed, and went to shop for undergarments, which she had a bit of fun with. All the underwear came in fun patterns like stars and stripes, multi-colored polka-dots, and stripes.

When she came back with her bag, Max had three jumbo sized ones over his shoulder, and she gawked.  
"All of that?" She asked.

Max shrugged. "I picked out a little bit more," he replied sheepishly.

At that moment, Max lurched around a curve and Charlotte realized just how fast he was going.  
"Slow down would you!?" she blurted, opening her eyes.  
Trees zoomed past her like flies in a hurricane.  
When she'd exploded, Max's head snapped toward her, his foot still pressing on the accelerator, his hands still controlling the wheel.  
He stared at her for a while, and then let off the gas. "Sorry," Max apologized, genuinely regretful that he had upset her.  
Charlotte stayed silent, her eyes wide open, watching the road. He was still topping seventy in a forty-five.

"I have control of everything." He said, trying to reassure her as though it would wash everything away. "It's alright," Max added soothingly, but Charlotte wasn't in the mood to be soothed. She wanted Max to slow down so she didn't feel like she was on a rollercoaster ride that could crash at any given moment.  
"Could you please slow down?" Charlotte more stated than asked clearly.

"Yeah," Max replied snappishly, as though he was upset that she was such a wuss, and he let off the gas, letting the car coast.  
"Thanks," Charlotte said to him, and Max nodded.  
Subconsciously, Charlotte loosened her grip on the right armrest. There was a sticky sound of her skin peeling off of the vinyl, and her fingers started to throb with the tingling sensation of numbness.  
"I really didn't mean to scare you," Max relayed to her. "I forget that you have human feelings and stuff." He trailed off.  
"And what stuff?" Charlotte demanded. Max shrugged. "Human…personality traits." He replied.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "And you're not human?" she asked.

Max casted her a side-ways glance.  
Charlotte dropped her head. They didn't eat, they didn't sleep, and they didn't die. Of course he wasn't humans.  
"You're right," she said, defeated. "Dumb question." She added.

Max shrugged. "It's not a dumb question. It's just…I don't feel things you feel," he told her calmly.  
"I won't die if I crash this car, no matter how bad the crash is, so, therefore, I have a lack of fear, which is a feeling that is very prominent in the human race." Max seemed like he was getting into a little lecture, so Charlotte settled into her seat comfortably, ready to listen.  
"There's not a thing in the world that can kill me. I'm not controlled, for the most part anyway, by the need to ear. Quite literally, I have all the time in the world. So, in the long run, I lack a lot of the qualities that make up mankind." He explained.  
Charlotte lifted her eyebrows again.

"Oh," was all she could manage.

"Don't be afraid of me," Max hastened to say. "Or anyone in my family for that matter. We won't hurt you."

Charlotte nodded, but was unsure. "I don't understand why not though," she told him hesitantly.  
"Don't understand what?"

Charlotte shrugged. "You…eat…blood. If you haven't noticed, I'm filled to the brim with it." She said sarcastically.

Max chuckled. "Notice it?" he asked her, his white teeth glimmering.  
"You smell delicious. You wouldn't understand, but I'll explain it for you anyway. Let's just say you're vegetarian, and you're in the middle of nowhere and this guy…we'll call him Muhammad for kicks. He says he can offer you all the food you want, but he only has meat. And you're a die-hard vegetarian." Max said to her, entering another housing complex within the complex. It was rather complex for Charlotte to follow his driving, so she gave up earlier.

"So…it smells good, and you're starving, but you refuse to eat sweet, little animals." Max finished up.

"Me being the sweet little animal?" Charlotte asked.  
"Exactly," Max confirmed.

He turned left down his driveway, and they came up to his house. It was a two story 1930's style brick house with white shutter windows, an extending garage for their massive auto collection, and an attic with a flat top for lounging. There was a white fence that surrounded the house and disappeared around to the back of the house which was out of eyesight, but dark evergreen trees loomed over the house while guardians.

Max pressed a button and the garage door flew up and the car slid into its dedicated slot.  
Charlotte eyes the black suburban that was sitting next to them carefully.  
"Thanks for coming with me today," Max said, distracting her while turning the engine off.  
"Coming with you?" Charlotte asked, confused and surprised. "Thank you for taking me,"

Max beamed. "Anytime." He replied, and got out of the car.  
Charlotte reached for the door, but it opened in front of her. She looked up to see Max's head peeking over the tinted windows, smirking.

Inside, Max and Charlotte were greeted by Aimee, who was in the kitchen, reading a cookbook. "Good Afternoon!" she said brightly. "How did it go?" This question was directed at Max.  
Max nodded approvingly. "Surprisingly well, actually. Nothing like Antilania had seen."  
Aimee let out a breath. "Good," she replied.  
Charlotte looked at Max expectantly.  
Max turned to her, and almost grimaced. "Antilania had a premonition that we would get in a crash."

"Oh," Charlotte replied for the second time that day.

What was she supposed to say to that? The entire time she was with him, while he was speeding, sometimes fifty over the speed limit, he was destined to get in a wreck. Her stomach dropped uncomfortably, and she wrapped her arms around her middle.

"That's why I was going so fast." He shrugged. "Adrenaline rush."

Charlotte began to feel overwhelmed.

Vampires, shopping spree, now she had a death wish?  
She looked around for a chair, sitting in the nearest one, pretending to be calm.

So much good that did her.

"I didn't mean to overload you," Max apologized to her.  
Charlotte shook her head. "You didn't," she insisted.  
Max rolled his eyes. "You can't lie to me, Charlotte," he informed her, letting Aimee go back to her cookbook.

"What makes you so special?" Charlotte asked him, one eyebrow pushing down into her eye, the other pulling up.  
Max looked out of the corner of his eye. "I can sense when you're lying," he told her.

Charlotte was growing tired of all this cool stuff that the family seemed to be able to do.  
"Oooh, another cool vampire trick?" she asked sarcastically as Max sat on a coffee table in front of her.

He pushed her shoulder lightly. "Yeah," he replied in a 'whatever' kind of voice.

Charlotte waited. "Well?"  
"Oh, uhm…Max replied, hastening to seek an answer. "There's a part of my brain that's in…I guess, my seeing part of my brain. And when I look at someone, I can sorta read them in colors."  
"So there are some people that look like oompa-loompas to you?" she asked.

Max crinkled his face. "Well, no, not exactly." He replied. "When I say 'green', what emotion would you like that with?"  
Charlotte thought about it, sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth. "Uhm," she mumbled.  
"Don't think about it, just blurt it out!" Max instructed. "Green."

"Envy," Charlotte replied.

Max waved a hand at her. "That's kind of how it works for me. If someone is envious, I see a little ball of greenish looking gaseous stuff." He told her.

"So, everyone has a little ball of color changing gas inside your head?" Charlotte asked.

At the table, Aimee snorted, and buried her head into her book, her shoulders jolting from laughter ever so slightly.

Max smiled at her patiently. "Well, no. It's just a ball of whoever's emotions I tap into." He explained. "I don't really get it, but I kinda understand it," she replied.

Max nodded. "Well, green for me is sick. But there are also mixtures of colors that go together."

Charlotte shrugged. "So, basically, you know everything I'm feeling." She asked.  
Max nodded, folding his arms.

Charlotte sighed. "It's gonna be hard living with you," she told him.

Max shrugged with a grin.  
Charlotte's shoulders sunk. "Great."  
She now had absolutely no privacy. Not only could Blair read her mind, Max's mind lighted up like Christmas lights whenever he decided to tap into her head.  
She looked to find Max inspecting her.

"It's not a bad thing," he grumbled. Charlotte laughed blandly.

"I'll get used to it," she shrugged.  
The two looked up when a figure appeared at the top of the stairs. Antilania stated down at them from the top of the stairs. "You got back safe, I see," She announced and slowly declined down the stairs, graceful as a queen.  
"Yeah," Max nodded. "I changed my plans around." He told her.  
"I saw," Antilania confirmed. "Very wise of you." She finished, reaching the last step.

Charlotte was still admiring her grace. It made her feel like a lump of coal next to a diamond. Antilania walking down the stairs was like riding an escalator, slow, even and serene.

"It's good to see you in one piece." She told Charlotte, interrupting her train of thought.  
Was that a reference that she had seen her in two or more?

"Thanks," Charlotte squeaked.  
She felt intimidated under Antilania's gaze. It still held a hostile glimmer, like she wanted nothing more than to spit on her, and walk away.

But she could probably do more than that. Much more.  
Charlotte composed herself and sighed, knowing that Max was in tune with her feelings.

Antilania's lips lifted in a gently looping smile. A perfect smile.

She gave Max a glance and left them.

Max turned to Charlotte. "You must be tired," he told her.

Charlotte shrugged. "Eh, not…"

"You should go lie down," Max intervened.

Charlotte nodded, slightly put out, but she got the feeling that he didn't want her around for something, so she have in, slightly perturbed, and stood up, leaving Max to do whatever.

She climbed the stairs to her room, and trudged down the hallway.  
She flopped down on her bed, and looked up at the ceiling, making out patterns in the popcorn above her, and thought.

These were vampires she resided with. Blood-sucking, evil-doing bats.

_I wonder if they turn into bats…_ she thought.  
They obviously had a butt-ton of money. Their possessions gave that way. The first hint was their gorgeous 1930's style house. When you got inside and saw their car collection, the black Grand piano and the white baby grand piano, designer clothes, designer everything. Probably a designer carpet.  
They had more money than Oprah.  
They had to.  
And…she still couldn't get over the fact that she was in their house, brimming to the top with thick, red-hot blood and they hadn't laid a finger or a fang for that matter, on her.

_We're not evil, you know,_ a voice passed like a movie in her head. She recognized it almost at once.

_Blair, you're not supposed to intrude like that,_ she scolded, closing her eyes.

_Oh, hold on,_ he said, and his presence withdrew from her head. Next thing she heard was a knocking on the front of her head.  
Charlotte laughed, and thought about opening a door.

Clair came into her mind and his personality blossomed in her head like a sunflower.

_How was your trip?_ He asked her.

_It was…_  
Blair interrupted her. _Show me,_ he suggested.

Show him? How did she do that?

_Think about it,_ Blair urged.

What an odd concept.  
Charlotte dug though her memories of the day's events.  
_I like that,_ Blair commented on the memory of her wearing the white sweater.  
Charlotte smiled. She was careful to skip the thoughts of her half and completely naked in the stall, trying to hurry up with the bra trying on process.

During her shopping spree, Charlotte had taken notice of her figure for the first time (that she could remember anyway). She was slightly built and her legs were rock solid. She must have done a lot of running before she forgot who she was.

Charlotte finished with her lunch, and ended the thoughts like the end of a movie.

_Looks like you enjoyed yourself_, he told her.  
Charlotte shrugged, wondering if she moved around, would it break their connection.

She readjusted the pillows and lay down.

Still there.

_Well, I'll let you get to sleep_ Blair told her and the fuzzy tendrils of his consciousness disappeared.  
"What, do they think I need twenty hours of sleep or something?" Charlotte asked out loud.  
She stared at the ceiling to pass the time, and soon, she really did fall asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

---Diary Entry—

Max took me to the mall today and bought me like, half a wardrobe. I guess I was using Antilania's stuff, and she was growing annoyed with me.

So I got enough clothes for like a month without reusing anything.

We came home and Antilania told me she was glad to see me in one piece. I guess she saw me in more than one.

Something's going on about me though. Aimee was glad to see me too, and I think they've been sleepless for a couple years too long, because they all think I get tired 24/7.

Either that, or they're talking about me.

So I found out that Max has a power too. Antilania has premonitions and stuff. Blair can read minds.

Max looks at someone and taps into their feelings, and he gets a color picture.

So he knows exactly what's going on in my head every time he looks at me.

I've got to find a way to block all this crap.

I have no privacy.

---------

________________________________________________________________________

_"You know that you won't be safe forever, right?" Prince Charming told Charlotte._

_Charlotte lifted her eyebrows. "We'll talk about that later. What about my inability to andle things?"_

_Prince Charming nodded. "Oh yes. You know those people who have multiple personalities?"_

_Charlotte nodded._

_Prince Charming tilted his head to one side. "Well, you have something like that, excapt your brain came up with me, which is even better."_

So he's egotistical too. Great.

_"and when will you leave?" she asked._

_Prince Charming went limp and his jaw dropped. "And I was beginning to think that we were getting along." He said, disappointed._

_Charlotte waved her hand impatiently. "No, no. Just tell me," she replied._

_Prince Charming and scratched his head. "I guess when you recuperate and your head makes sense of all that's going on." He suggested_

_Charlotte sighed. "So basically until I remember who I am?" she asked._

_Prince Charming shrugged. "Who knows?" he replied._

_"Obviously not you," Charlotte grumbled, puffing hair out of her eyes._

_"Well, it coule be until you get your memory back," And that could be next week, or in fifty years. You could get your memory back, and I could be gone, or I could stay for a week, or the next fifty years. The mind is a powerful and mysterious thing you know. I've learned not to tamper with it."_

_Charlotte rested her head on the invisible. "Thanks, Dr. Know-It-All," she said, but she was becoming depressed._

_"So," Prince Charming said, sitting down across from her. "Tell me about these two bows, Blair and Max."_

_Charlotte sighed. _Why not?_ She thought. "Blair and Max…well, it turns out that they're really not brothers, they're vampires. Blair reads minds and.."_

_"Charlotte," Prince Charming cut her off. "I know everything you know. What I don't know is how your feel." He explained. "So how to you feel about these two boys?"_

_Charlotte blushed, feeling incredibly stupid. Here she was telling him everything he already knew.  
"Oh," she trailed off. "Well, I don't know what to feel," she told Prince Charming._

_Prince Charming shrugged. "Fair enough." He replied. "Do you like them??"_

_Charlotte shrugged. "Well, sure. They're really nice, and haven't eaten me yet, so they can't be all bad."_

_Prince Charming let his head drop into his hands. "You are seriously impossible, you know that?" he asked._

_Charlotte bounced off the wall with her back. "What?" she demanded defensively.  
Prince Charming shook his head. "We'll talk about this later," he announced.  
"No, you explain it now," Charlotte snapped at him, and the fuzzy feeling was starting to control her vision. Prince Charming was fuzzing out from the outside in.  
"Tell me now!" she screamed at him, and was pulled back to reality._

_-----_

"Tell me now!" she screamed, thrashing around in her bed.

"Tell you what?" Max demanded, his body on top of hers again.

Charlotte opened her eyes. "Oh," she said, surprised. "It was a dream," she added in the same tone.

Embarrassed was beginning to be a word she felt so often it was starting to lose it's effect of her.

Max sat on the edge of her bed, just like he did every time before he wound up sitting beside her.

"What was it about?" he asked.

Charlotte shrugged. "This thing was telling me I was impossible." She told him apathetically.

"What do you mean '_it'_'?" he asked.

"I don't know what _it_ is. It changed all the time."

"Oh," Max said, enlightened.

"So what were you impossible about?"

Charlotte sighed. If she told him anymore, especially about the part the Prince Charming knew about everything she knew, it would turn from twenty questions into a hundred and one questions.

"I don't remember," she said with a shrug, thinking about what she had for dinner the previous night, which she couldn't remember.

Max seemed content, but not satisfied.

"Okay," he submitted. "Well, there's nothing to do until the day after tomorrow," he told her.

"What's the day after tomorrow?" Charlotte asked, wondering where the family got so much money from that they could have one event right after the other.

"Aimee wasn't happy with the amount of clothes you got, so we're going back, day after tomorrow."

Charlotte sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Oh yeah, and MERYY CHRISTMAS!!" Max screamed, and pushed on her bed. Charlotte bounced up like it was a trampoline he was jumping on.

Charlotte smiled. "Merry Christmas to you too," she replied, pulling back her covers and welcoming the cold air.

"The gifts are downstairs, we're about to open them." He said. "Come on."

"I have nothing to give," Charlotte protested.

Max sighed. "Just…don't worry about that please," Max said to her.

Charlotte cast him an upset look.  
"I will carry you downstairs if you keep this up," he warned her.

Grudgingly, Charlotte got up, sending goose bumps down to her thighs.

"Oh, come on! Don't change," Max moaned as she started fr her newly refurbished wardrobe.

Charlotte threw her hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, fine, jeez." She replied, and Max took her by the arm and pulled her along.

The rest of the Allen family was sitting patiently by a Christmas tree that had not been there the day before. It was large, at least ten feet tall, to fill up space in their living room with cathedral ceilings.  
It looked like a designer tree with red and silver ribbons that cascaded lightly down the sides, and glittered the whole way down. There were large red balls placed perfectly throughout the tree, accompanied by twice that of small silver balls. Various stars with glittering tips stuck out and tufts of curling wood made the finishing feature.

To top everything off, the room smelled like pine.

"Wow," Charlotte murmured. "How did you guys that that in one night?" she asked.

Aimee smiled at patted the seat next to her gently.

"It was nothing. Come sit,"

Charlotte finished going down the stairs, and sat by Aimee who suddenly stared at her with a queer face.

_Maybe I have something on my face…_ Charlotte thought, and wiped from her nose down.

_Your face is fine._ Said a voice that she recognized instantly. _She's smelling you. And I can't blame her, you smell absolutely divines._

Charlotte blinked curiously at his choice of words; _divine_.

_It's better than delicious. _He told her with a mental shrug.

Aimee's gaze returned to one that wasn't quite so questionable, and Charlotte felt her body become less rigid.

Greyson have her a smile, and stood up, walked toward the tree, and started passing gifts around to the names that were written on them.

They all had smiled on their faces, even Antilania, whose face was usually angry, and now the hostile glimmer in her eyes had dimmed drastically.

Each of the Allens had a small stack by their feet when Greyson was finished.

"You first, my love," Greyson said adoringly to his wife.

Aimee smiled, and pushed her short bangs out of her face before picking up a perfectly-wrapped box.

She tore the peppermint candy cane paper off the package, and it turned out to be a cuisinart knife set. "Oooh, thank you, Blair!" she crooned. "I've been hoping for a enw set ever since I shattered the last knife."

Charlotte lifted her eyebrows in surprise. _I guess life-time warranties don't apply to vampires_, she thought.

Antilania went next, being the next girl, and the circle was set.

She received a scare and glove set with a beanie that was white with delicate light blue snowflakes on them. She made a pleasant face, and thanked Aimee.

Balir went next. He opened up a small box that had a card in it that told him the complete set of Britanica Encyclopedias was on its way, courtesy of Greyson and Aimee.

Max got ticket's to Broadway for The Lion King and Cats.

"Wow, thanks!" he said happily, looking at Antilania.

Greyson then opened up a giftcard for Barnes and Noble Bookstore.

Charlotte watched as the circle continued, each person opening one gift at a time.

In the end, everyone received Broadway tickets, Antilania got fout gift cars to various stores, a diamond and ruby necklace, and a pair of boots with a two-inch heel.

Blair got a new chip for his laptop, three sweaters, and a key to a new car.  
When he opened the box to the mustang convertible, Charlotte's mouth dropped.

Max leaned over to her and whispered, "we all get one. We trade off every year."

Charlotte turned to him. "So you randomly get cars every year."

Max shrugged. "Pretty much."

Amazed, Charlotte straightened, still next to Aimee, and watched the circle go round.

Max got a ticket for a new set of tires for his BMW that he received last year, a bottle of cologne, a gift card to "The Men's Store", and a new television for his room.

Aimee and Greyson mostly obtained kitchen appliances; a microwave, a kitchen aid with all the add-ons individually wrapped, and a new stove top.

Max stood up after everyone had finished. "Thanks guys," he said, and went around the circle, hugging everyone. He hugged Charlotte last. "But I didn't get you anything, Max," she said with a giggle.  
Max smiled down at her. "Sure you did. You just don't realize it." He replied. He pocketed his cologne, then picked up his television and balanced it on his hand like it was a Styrofoam flate, and flicked his head, motioning for Charlotte to go upstairs with him. She stood, but was stopped by Aimee, whose hand grasped her wrist. "I hope you're okay with your gift not coming until later," she said. "I really am terribly sorry."

Charlotte smiled, and bent to kiss her cheek. "You don't have to," she said.

"Do what, darling?" Aimee asked, tilting her head to one side.  
"Uhm…you know, buy me clothes and stuff," Charlotte replied awkwardly. Just saying it made her feel guilty.

Aimee waved her hands. "Nonsense," she said loudly, and Greyson smiled. "We were dreadfully unprepared for your visit."

"You mean…you knew?" Charlotte asked, shocked.

"Well, Antilania told us about a girl coming to visit. But we never knew when, or why, and we didn't know you wold come at our door at three in the morning." She laughed.

Charlotte laughed hesitantly, scuffing her feet.

"So don't worry about money, okay?" Aimee said to her.

"If you like it, get it. Ant said you would be staying for a while."

Then, Greyson stood up, and the couple took their fists to the kitchen to set them up. Antilania gathered her stuff into her arms and before Charlotte could bat an eye, she was gone, and the door slammed behind her. She decided to look at Blair who was still sitting calmly.

"I have some questions for you," she warned him.

Blair looked at Charlotte with baby blue eyes that almost glowed.  
"I know what you want," he replied. "And you'll regret it if I tell you."

Charlotte groaned. "I'm so tired of all these mysteries." She told him, and sat down. Max had left once Aimee stopped her.

She wasn't mad. If he didn't want to tell her, it wasn't like she could force him to tell her.

He didn't feat anything. But it would ease her curiosity to know everything that they were talking about, most likely when she was asleep.

"I know it would be easier." Blair said, obviously in her head again. "And believe me, I would love to tell you everything, but it wouldn't help your situation any."

"And what's my situation?" Charlotte asked dully.

"A human in a house full of vampires." Blair replied with a slight grin.


	12. Chapter 12

He was right. To a point anyways.

She was a complete human, and if the family decided to turn against her, she'd be no better off than a baby lamb against a hungry lioness.

But that didn't sate her aching curiosity. She wanted to know what was going on in the family. Why they sent her to sleep when they wanted to talk about her. Why they kept buying her tons and tons of clothes. She sighed.

Blair took in a breath and cleared his throat.

"Antilania sees things that might happen. Premonitions, I suppose. She calls them visions. And depending on what decisions we made, those premonitions change or are carried out as-seen. Antilania saw that someone would come to us for a visit. And then we saw a girl, and then it was a long visit, and then an extended stay, and the night you came, she saw you in distress. It kind of took us by surprise. So, now, obviously, you'll be needing clothes, and we have the means of buying you them. And Aimee and Greyson count it as an insult when you don't take advantage of their gift." He said, hitting the point home.

"Way to make me feel like a jerk," she pointed out.

Blair shrugged, but he was bearing her a toothy grin. "I wouldn't lie to you," he replied simply.

They were trying to make her feel at home. Unless she spontaneously got her memory back, she would be staying at the Allen house for a very long time, according to Antilania and Blair, thus why they gave her a personal room and had started, just started stocking her closet,

Clearly not everyone disliked her as Antilania did.

"It's not that she doesn't like you," Blair interrupted.

Charlotte snorted. "Are you kidding?" she asked, disbelieving him. "She hates me."

"No, she doesn't" Blair stated clearly. "She's just careful."

"Because I'm oh-so terrifying," Charlotte replied with a laugh.

Blair didn't say anything. "Just…don't be so quick to judge us, okay?" he asked her. "We're a little more than you realize." Then, he smiled at her, and Charlotte felt her stomach drop.

His brown hair let his eyes light up his light features, and she suddenly felt the need to fix her hair and get dressed, as she was still in her P.J's.

She stood up awkwardly. "I'll keep that in mind," she said to him.

"I'll know if you do," Blair told her, and let her go up the stairs to Max, who was without a doubt, waiting patiently, putting together his television.

So, there was something going about her, it wasn't just her imagination. It was probably bad, knowing her luck. Well, she didn't really know it. But she didn't feel lucky.

Charlotte climbed the stairs, and found herself trying to look pretty doing it. How to look pretty going up the stairs was something beyond her knowledge, but Antilania did it perfectly.

"There you are!" Max exclaimed, opening the door before she got a chance to knock. "Sorry," she apologized. "Aimee caught me and then Blair and I started talking.

"Oh," Max replied indifferently, and went back to hooking up his new TV.

"You…have any trouble?" Charlotte offered, sitting on his futon.

Max shook his head. "Nah," he replied coolly, laying down and scooting in behind the TV. "I've done this for so many years; I could do it with my eyes closed." He told her.

"And your thumbs tied together," Charlotte mumbled under her breath. Max jolted with laughter behind his entertainment box.

Charlotte frowned. "What do you mean by that? So many years?"

"Well," Max grunted, pushing up off the floor to move his television back. He pressed the ON button on top, and the static-y sound of a TV came on and TV land was on the screen. Max patted the box proudly and turned it back off.

"After so many years, it gets old when you have to keep appliances and stuff. So I taught myself to fix them."

"But you randomly buy Mercedes Benzes?" Charlotte asked, confused.

"Well, we don't have to buy them. But we choose to. We donate the old ones to charities and nursing homes and stuff. Same with the TV's and the other stuff like clothes."

Charlotte shrugged. At the rate they bought things, they were donating cars and TV's and furniture every year.

"Aimee cooks a lot, which is why we got her a bunch of new Kitchen Aid stuff." Max continued.

Well, that just didn't make any sense. Aimee cooked for a family that didn't eat??  
"She cooks for neighbors and people who can't afford a night meal." Max seemed to answer her thoughts, which he probably picked up on with his Christmas Light Power.

"Oh," was all Charlotte said.

How quaint. It was like the typical do-gooder family, except their stereotype for being evil vampires. Granted, no one was supposed to know who the Allen family really was, and if they found out, there was no doubt in her mind the Antilania would threaten them within centimeters of their life.

"So yeah," Max added uncomfortably.

----

Max finally got his TV to the settings he was satisfied with, and he looked at Charlotte after picking out two movies from his collection. "Which one?" he asked, showing her Mulan and Peter Pan by Disney.  
Charlotte laughed. "Oooh," she crooned sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth. She reached out and tapped Mulan. "This one." She said.

"Do you remember these movies?" he asked.

Charlotte reluctantly shook her head after studying them for a while.  
Max's jaw dropped. "Seriously?" he asked. "Every kid watches Disney." He added, putting the DVD in its slot.

"I remember when this guy first became popular." Max added, tapping the name on the DVD.

Charlotte giggled. "You sound like an eighty-six year old man." She told him.  
Max gave her a look out of the corner of his hazel eyes.

Charlotte looked at his perfectly straight nose, perfectly situated between his perfect eyes.

"Try like…a five hundred year old man." He told her, and Charlotte's eyes grew big.  
"Wow," she said. There was no way he was that old.

The movie started with a Disney logo and commercials for new movies that came out I the summer of 1996.

"How old is this movie?" Charlotte asked, settling into the side of the couch.

"Uhm…a little over ten years old," Max told her. "But the guy who created them, Walt Disney, was a genius. Anyway, we keep them because in two hundred years or so, they're going to be worth a lot of money. Not that we'd sell them because of the money. But they'd be major collectibles." Max told her, and he stopped talking when the movie announced the feature presentation.

About halfway through the movie, Charlotte announced that she had to go to the bathroom, so Max paused it and waited patiently for her to come back.

When she did, she found that Max has rearranged the couch so that she might be more comfortable.

"Aw, thanks Max," she crooned and went to sit down.  
"No problem. I just don't know how you were comfortable. The frame had to have been digging into your back."

Charlotte shrugged and held a pillow close to her chest as she watched an epic battle scene and Mulan fired a rocket into the side of a mountain.

That was when Max put his arm along the back of the couch, touching her back.  
At first, it reminded her of those guys who put their arms around girls at the movie theatres after pretending to yawn or stretch, and her body grew tense.

_'What if he's just comfortable_?' she thought. _'It's his house anyway….'_ She added to help calm her nerves, and her shoulders relaxed, allowing her to watch the rest of the movie resting against his side.

---

"That was a good movie," Charlotte said once the credits starting rolling up on the screen.  
"Glad you enjoyed it. There's like two hundred more made by the same company, so don't worry about running out of good movies,"

Charlotte's jaw dropped. "You're serious?" she asked.

Max shrugged. "More or less," he replied.

"Woooooooww…" Charlotte gasped, staring at his collection in the corner.  
She looked up to see Max staring at her with an odd expression. "So…now are you getting along with the fact that I'm a vampire?" he asked.

"I've been pretty good about it, don't you think?" she replied casually.

Max nodded with a slight shrug, and rubbed a spot on his chin where a goatee might go. "I suppose." He mumbled. "But I still think you should be scared of me."  
Charlotte nodded. "Maybe so." She agreed. "And I might be if I remembered who I was. But seeing as I don't I can't be scared of anything because I have nothing to base my….scaredness off."

Max sighed. "That's your only reason for not being just a little bit frightened of me?" he asked.

Charlotte's tongue appeared at the corner of her mouth.

It was the only reason. There was no reason to be afraid of them when they'd explained to her numerous times that she was in no danger. They'd taken her shopping for Pete's sake. How could she be afraid of someone who spent such a vast amount of money of her? They'd even named her.  
The more she thought, the more she wondered, "_Who is Pete anyway?"_

"Unless you give me a reason to afraid, then no, I'm sorry. You don't give me any doubt in my mind that I'll make it through the night."

Max gave her devil eyes. "We could change that," he told her with a sadistic grin.

The ending credits ended and static filled the room. Max jumped to turn it off.

"What about you? What's your past like, Mr. 500-year-old-man?"

Max smiled and sat back down next to Charlotte. "It's very colorful, that's for sure." He told her.

Charlotte listened intently.  
"I was born in 1508 when Charles V came into power over Spain and Rome. I lived happily for eighteen years. My father was a veteran general for the army after being in several wars and he was awarded some high position and he received lots of payment for his honor and bravery or something in the wars. Aimee was my nursing maid when I was a baby, and remained in the house after she turned into a vampire. It wasn't as hard to resist blood lust back them for newly changed vampires as it is today, for whatever reason that may be." He recalled.

"So…you wore togas?" Charlotte asked.

Max laughed. "Yeah," he said. "Seems kinda silly now, huh?"

Charlotte shrugged. "Continue." She instructed.

"Oh. Anyway, the Bubonic Plague was going around and everyone was always scared to get that. People died by the thousands every month. My father thought that it was impossible to get because we were nobles. But that Charles' Court started getting sick in Rome, so we left for Spain which was the worst thing we could have done. Anyway, Aimee had come with us because one of my Father's seven wives had just had a baby,"

_Wow, SEVEN wives…_

"When we got to Spain, Charles told us that the death rate from the Plague wasn't near as bad as what the peasants called the "Sweating Sickness."

It sounded eerie to Charlotte.  
'The Sweating Sickness.'

Kinda like a Steven King novel.

"Basically, you die because you had a temperature. They said, 'you could be dancing at nine and dead at eleven."

"Wow…" Charlotte interrupted again.

Max gave her a look, but continued. "John, my newborn half baby brother got it first and he died within six hours of getting to Spain. So my Gather decided it wasn't safe, obviously, and we were to leave in the morning."

Charlotte could picture Max's father in her mind. A bossy nobleman with a black goatee and black beady eyes.

"My father died two hours later, and I came down with the sickness not long after because I was in the room my father died in to say goodbye."  
Max was staring at the cloth on his bed, rolling it between in fingers.

"Not many human memories stay with us because they're so indefinite and limited, but God, I remember the pain. It was absolutely awful. Pain ravaged every part of my body. I had seizures and uncontrollable cramps. It burned like Hell's fire when I had to go to the bathroom and if felt like my head was between two slabs of stone and they placed the castle of France on top."  
Charlotte's mind drifted to Max's head like that with the Castle of France on it, and she mad a face, glad that such a sickness didn't exist anymore, except for PMS.

"Aimee was crying non stop at my bedside and I vaguely remember her sobbing about how sorry she was because of what she was going to do. She told me that my pain was almost over but it had to get worse before it would get better."  
_'What could be worse than a squished head?'_

"I was thinking that my ribs were going to break or something. Possibly my head, and then I was going to go to Heaven." Max squished an invisible ball between his big hands, and then lifted his hand to the sky.  
"Instead, Aimee changed me." He finished simply with a shrug.

"Just like that?" Charlotte asked, obviously disappointed. "She didn't drink your blood or anything?"

"Well, blood wasn't as hard to resist back then as it is now-a-days. People weren't too healthy back in 1508. There wasn't an exact source for any vitamin, so we just ate food. Now, there are loads of diseases that we didn't know about and people were dying from like scurvy or iron-deficiency because doctors didn't know what was going wrong... Now you can go to the store and buy over-the-counter iron-supplements or eat an orange."

"Why couldn't you just eat an orange then?" Charlotte asked, confused.

That was simple enough, right?

"Because no one knew that you had to eat fruit regularly. And most fruits were hard to come by, even when you had money." Max explained. "Anyway, I was changed to a vampire, and here I am, then, now and forever." Max opened his arms wide, gesturing to himself.

So, he was alive for everything. All the American wars…Hell, he was alive when Chris Columbus in his newspaper hat found the New World and declared the world was 'pear-shaped'. _What an idiot._

He was alive for all the French Kings, the Chinese Emperors, Queen Elizabeth, Queen Victoria and even Hitler.

"Did you know Hitler?" she asked.

Max, who had been staring off past her, refocused on her again with piercing hazel eyes.

"Sadistic bastard, which he was. Yes, I knew him."

"Wooooww…" Charlotte mumbled for possibly the tenth time that day.

"Who, your father?" a voice at the door startled Charlotte.

Max grinned. "He was too, but no, we were talking about Hitler, actually."

Aimee nodded, and Charlotte realized he'd been looking at Aimee.  
"Your father was almost as bad. He could have been, given the teensiest bit of power." Aimee spat in her tickling-water voice.

"And I'm his son." Max reminded her carefully.

Aimee snorted. "You're no son of Julius DeMarcus the III." She snapped. "Which is why I kept you for my own. I just wish I could have saved the baby, even though his mother was a shrew"

Charlotte was amazed. She'd never dreamed such ugly words could come from such a beautiful woman. She pictured Aimee as a dignified woman who kept her mouth shut.

Guess she had more to learn about the Allen's.

"What about Blair?" Charlotte asked Aimee, hungry for more.

When Blair first told her about their state of being a vampire, he'd said that Aimee had created him.

Aimee smiled at her. "Blair was a victim of a gang mass-murder. Irish settlers joined together one night and started stabbing any Roman they saw, regardless of age, gender, or status. I met Blair on my way home from the DeMarcus'. His mother was carrying him and she begged me to save him. I told his mother that he could live, but he would never return home. The woman gave Blair to me, and I never saw her again. Blair was with me as a servant in the DeMarcus' home."

"So…Blair is technically older than Max…" Charlotte said, piecing together the puzzle.

Aimee nodded.

_Geez, the whole lot of them are ages old!!_

"So now that you about us, I'd like to introduce myself properly. Charlotte, I'm Aimee Allen," Aimee stretched an arm out to her. She nearly expected Aimee to tack 'vampire' onto the end.

"Nice to meet you Aimee, I'm Charlotte…No Last Name."

Aimee smiled, back to the dignified woman Charlotte pictured her as. Then, Aimee looked at Max.  
"Max," she began. "Blair is going to go with you when you go shopping." She announced.

Charlotte saw the muscles in Max's jaw tighten. "Okay," he replied simply and with that, Aimee turned and left.

Charlotte smiled at Max once Aimee was gone. "I love her," she said and leaned back on his couch, having sat up at the intensity of the story.

She was finally starting to feel like she belonged at the house. She felt comfortable with just about everything that went on.

Max looked at his watch. "Well, it's four. And…Aimee, Greyson, Antilania, and I need to go out…" he told Charlotte and stood up, sighing.

"What?" Charlotte responded. "Going where?"

Max put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. "Just until early tomorrow morning. We'll be back by the time you wake up."

Charlotte stumbled over a fold up chair and tripped forward in her haste to black Max's way out. Max reached out and firmly set her right.

"But wait," Charlotte said, oblivious to his movements to help her.

"Why do you have to leave?" she asked desperately.

Seriously? Why just leave her with Blair? Not that she didn't like him or was scared of him. She was actually quite fond of him.

But he didn't make her dreams go away.

And if anything that was the thing she was scared of most. Lately, they hadn't been as violent but she was completely conscious and she spoke with the creature that seemed to know everything about her. It seemed to know everything about her, and she knew close to nothing about herself.

Max smiled at her gently, and pushed some hair out of her eyes.  
"Don't' worry, okay?" he said.

His voice was so gently, and compassionate, and it washed over her fears like a tidal wave.

It was going to be okay because Max said it was going to be okay.

"Okay," she replied, mesmerized by his hazel eyes.

"Nothing will happen to you." Max added reassuringly. "Come on. Let's get you some dinner." He added, grabbed her hand, and squeezed it.

"Alright," Charlotte sighed, and she turned to leave, Max trailing behind her.

They were downstairs where Aimee had a plate of macaroni-and-cheese waiting for her.

"OOOOH!" Charlotte said excitedly. "Thank-you Aimee!" she squealed.

Aimee smiled. "My pleasure. Max, I'm going to bring this to the neighbors and then we can leave." She said.  
The spoon headed towards Charlotte's mouth stopped so abruptly that the macaroni fell off.

Max nodded. "Alright." He replied.

When she was gone, Charlotte said, "You're leaving so soon?"

Max smiled. "Yeah," he replied.

Charlotte harrumphed. "What are you guys going to do?" she demanded.

Instead of refusing to answer like Charlotte expected him to do, he leaned forward, the sparkle in his glowing eyes dancing. "His face was lifted up in an amused grin. "We're hungry too," he said to her.  
Charlotte's eyes got big and her mouth formed a circle. "Oh," she said simply, and scooped macaroni into her open mouth.


	13. Chapter 13

Hey guys, I know you're gonna be terribly upset with me for putting a "chapter" up, and all it's gonna be is this note, but I want you all to understand something.

=]

I live in North Carolina, but right now, I'm in Tucson Arizona visiting my grandparents and stuff, and Id like you all to know that I'm not ignoring anyone, I'm just not at a time  
that I can really update.

And so, having said that, I announce that YES I will try to get on and type up another chapter [possibly two if I get enough creative juices going] and I'll be back home on July 9thish, so gimme some time, kay? I promise it would be worth your while.

Also, I recently got inspired to do another story, but I'm not sure because my contact for information hasn't replied yet, and it's slightly aggrivating to be honest. I won't give up either of my stories to do that one so don't freak out on me please.

The plan for that story is gonna be about a little white girl who's brought up as a Cherokee indian. OOOOOH. so yeah

Email me if you have anything you need to say on here, or at .

But don't spam up my email, k thanks.

xoxo

-Leo


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